


American Money

by Necro (Charlie_M)



Series: Phoenix Rising [3]
Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: (failed) self-defense lessons, Adoption of plants, Attempted Murder, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Issues, Grad Student Struggles, Living Together, Lots of sex because it's Kabal, No one can help you because i'm back on my bullshit, Psychic Abilities, Sex, Sharing a Bed, past unhealthy relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2020-03-06 22:13:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 42,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18860158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_M/pseuds/Necro
Summary: Phoenix Merce is a tired grad student with a small secret and a big price on her head. Kabal is the starstruck idiot who couldn't follow through on the job. He promises to protect her until they can figure out who wants her dead... which may or may not involve living together - temporarily, of course. And purely for her protection.They've got asshole exes, judgmental family, nosy mercenaries, and a lot of succulents ahead of them, so let the domestic shenanigans begin.





	1. Sweet Like Tennessee Honey

**Author's Note:**

> So, I thought of this in the midst of the end of my own semester and thought it'd be really cute if the scary mercenary ended up with a bubbly-but-stressed medical student. That, plus all the Jenna Marbles I've been watching, and you get Nix and Kabal living together (for practical reasons, of course).

“I’ll go, but I’m leaving around twelve.”

Katy paused just long enough to shoot Nix a disbelieving glare before continuing her contour routine. Nix, who had been too lazy to do much more than the basics, stuck her tongue out from her perch on the edge of the bathtub. The bathroom in their on-campus apartment was far too small for two full-grown women to occupy it, but that didn’t stop Nix from crowding in to watch Katy apply makeup like a personal YouTube video.

“Tomorrow is Sunday,” Katy reminded. “Why are you coming home so early? You need a break from the apartment.”

“If I sleep in late tomorrow, I’ll stay up late that night and I’ll be tired for class on Monday,” Nix complained. “Besides, I’ve got adulting to do tomorrow.”

Not to mention how badly crowds affected her. The longest she could last in a charged nightclub scene was about two hours before the exhaustion set in and the input became too much, but she wasn’t going to remind Katy of that. Nix didn’t want her to feel bad and cancel their plans, because Nix really did want to go out and party for a little while.

She leaned to watch Katy expertly blend her highlighter, half-wishing she’d put a little more effort into her own appearance. Between the dark lighting and the drunk goggles, Nix knew it wouldn’t make much difference, thought. Katy did it because Katy liked it, and she still had the motivation to do things like winged eyeliner.

Nix had spent her Saturday on the couch watching Jenna Marbles while stress-studying for biochem, so that was the kind of day she was having. Makeup that involved any kind of sponge or brush just wasn’t in the cards. In fact, even putting on what she did have had been near disastrous, between redoing her eyeliner three times and nearly blinding herself with the mascara wand. It was probably for the better that she’d kept it simple. Super Model Mode could be saved for another day.

“Oh my god, how old are you?” Katy asked, teasing.

“I’m _old_ ,” Nix groaned. “My joints hurt so much, Kate. They pop like bubble wrap.”

She didn’t even look away from the mirror as she brushed on highlighter, unconcerned with Nix’s dramatics. “That’s because you have shitty posture and sit in the same position for two hours straight.”

She was right, but Nix wasn’t looking for rationality. “ _And?_ On the outside I may be twenty-something, but on the inside I’m at least 73.”

Katy laughed and arched her eyebrows at Nix. “Did you forget how old you actually are?”

She had, but that was because she’d stopped celebrating her birthday when she’d started undergrad. The only birthday that had mattered was her twenty-first. There were lots of other (more important) things that took up Nix’s headspace, like exams and song lyrics and the oppressive push of other peoples’ consciousnesses.

“I’m old enough to drown my sorrows in hard liquor,” Nix declared. As a demonstration, she lifted the neon green margherita they’d made to pregame while they got ready. “That’s all that matters.”

Katy narrowed her eyes. “Is that the same fucking drink?”

“…No?”

***

The job was weird. Even Kano thought so, and he was oblivious to anything that didn’t involve dollar signs or tits. Granted, this job _did_ involve a pair of tits, technically, but that was only because the target was a woman. A woman whose basic info made her seem like the least likely candidate for an assassination.

The Black Dragon wasn’t picky about marks, so long as the client paid enough, so it wasn’t the fact that she was a woman that made the job suspicious. It wasn’t even the fact that she was a grad student, really. They’d been paid to kidnap the sons and daughters of their client’s rivals before, but the job wasn’t about ransoms.

They were supposed to merc her.

Kabal took the sketchy job mostly out of curiosity. He always studied his marks before completing an assignment, and this time he was extra thorough. Someone was paying _a lot_ of money to kill a seemingly random woman. He expected to eventually turn up something dirty on Phoenix Merce; everyone had shit they were trying to hide.

Whatever it was, though, Kabal couldn’t find it.

She came from an affluent family, but they weren’t political or even involved in black market dealings. In fact, the relationship between her and her parents seemed strained. Her twin brother was the one going to business school and the heir to their father’s company. The company itself was about as dirty as any other company was— which wasn’t very clean, granted— but nothing unspeakable, and nothing Merce seemed aware of.

There weren’t any vendettas against her, at least not anyone who could pay to have something done about it. She hadn’t pissed off any drug lords or political leaders while studying abroad in her undergrad years. Her IP addresses didn’t track anywhere unsavory, and her internet search history was… well, weird but it didn’t raise any red flags.

It was bothering him. Kabal knew he shouldn’t ask questions, that it didn’t matter as long as he got his money. Normally, it didn’t, but the fact that it seemed so easy was making him twitchy. There had to be a reason why the price on her head was so high when she seemed squeaky clean.

He got to the “observation” part of the job with a mix of frustration and fucked-up hope that he’d get some answers. Maybe she did things old school to avoid technological trails and digital evidence. It was easier to scrub hands than computers, after all. Better to figure out her habits to keep the hit quiet anyway, find the best opportunity to get it done.

It took exactly one day for Kabal to decide that whoever was paying the Black Dragon to kill her was either stupid or petty. The most heinous thing she’d done in the three days he’d watched her, was drink a concerning amount of coffee and sing _Gasolina_ at top volume after three shots of tequila at 1AM.

Not exactly worth professional mercenaries. Maybe there had been a mistake?

He checked the picture he’d been provided for the seventh time. Nope, that was definitely her. Pale purple hair and big smile, a scar across the bridge of her nose. No question that he had the right Phoenix Merce. She was recognizable even in the colorful crowds and strobing lights of the club, giggling and drinking with a small group of friends.

Kabal leaned against the railing overlooking the dancefloor and scattered tables, where he had a perfect view of her. She was sitting at one of the tables with five other people— two men and three women, including her roommate. They all seemed like a close-knit group, leaning against each other and passing their drinks around with nonverbal cues to ask and give permission.

Phoenix Merce had just ordered everyone a round of waters, it seemed. Six icy glasses were set before them and they crowded around her with hugs and kisses on her rosy cheeks, thanking her for taking care of them. They were so loud that even Kabal could hear them from his perch.

“Thanks, _mom_!” one of them chirped in a high voice, teasing but not sarcastic.

“Team mom!” her roommate declared.

Merce groaned, but she was smiling so wide he was surprised she wasn’t in pain. “Noooo! I hate all of you!”

The more he watched her, the more his stomach churned at the thought of doing his job. It was a fair assumption in his line of work that the people he was paid to kill came in one of two flavors. They either deserved it and paid for protection, or they didn’t “deserve” it but they could protect themselves anyway.

And then there was Phoenix Merce who was, as far as Kabal could tell, a bubbly grad student. He should have been too cynical to think there was any such thing as innocents, but that was more Erron’s schtick than Kabal’s. He tended to be a little more optimistic, a little less jaded.

Phoenix Merce was innocent… and he had to kill her.

When he saw her heading to the dancefloor, he pushed away from the railing. Time to get it over with. The sooner he finished this job, the sooner he could buy alcohol expensive enough to make it worth forgetting.

Once he was on the bottom level, he quickly gained his bearings and spotted her. She was dancing in a loose knot with her friends, hips swaying and singing to the lyrics of whatever song was blasting. He carefully threaded through the crowd until he was behind her, winked at her friends when they saw him and stared.

He tapped her shoulder and she spun around, tilting her head back and blinking with wide eyes.

“Do you want to dance with me?” he shouted over the music.

Her lips parted, surprise flashing across her features as she glanced at her friends. When they grinned and shooed her off, she bit her lip and nodded as she turned back to him. Smirking, he slid a hand down to her waist and tugged. Maybe she wasn’t expecting it or maybe he put too much strength behind it, because she squeaked and stumbled into him.

“Sorry!” Even on her toes, he had to lean down just a little so she could speak in his ear. Her lips brushed his cheek, and he was sure there would be a mark from her lipstick, but he kind of didn’t mind. “I’m just a mess.”

“A hot mess,” he offered.

She laughed brightly and dropped back to her heels, her small hands unlatching from his jacket to settle on his shoulders. His own palms found her waist, thumbs edging beneath the hem of her shirt to brush the soft skin of her stomach. Her teeth gleamed in the neon lights as a little shiver went through her.

That smile was infectious; Kabal couldn’t stop himself from returning it as they danced. Despite her initial clumsiness, she was damn good too. They moved in near-perfect harmony, the steady, pulsing beat of the music driving every rock and grind of their hips.

Every second pressed against her made it harder and harder to remember why he was there in the first place. And it wasn’t just because the plush curve of her ass was arched back against him. It just seemed like a damn waste to kill someone like her. But… he was being paid for this job— and a lot, at that.

His indecisiveness came to bite him in the ass as her roommate rushed up to them. Phoenix stepped away immediately, catching her stumbling friend with a worried frown.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Katy grimaced. “It’s Matthew. He’s here.”

Phoenix froze, which should have been impossible in such a crowded area, but she managed it. The blood drained from her face as she swallowed.

“Where?”

Katy winced. “At the table. You should leave before he finds you.”

Phoenix hesitated, tried to glance over the crowd, but that was a fruitless effort. Too short and too many people. Even though she didn’t find whatever— whoever— she was looking for, her shoulders sunk a little.

“I’ll call a car.”

Katy hugged her quickly and glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll see you at home.”

Phoenix turned back to Kabal and stepped close again. “Thank you for the dance! I have to go.”

Kabal’s brow furrowed as he put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from running off without actually restraining her.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Why was he checking on her? Why did he care? He had approached her with the intention of killing her. She almost definitely had more to worry about from him than whoever she was running from.

“For now,” she replied with a nervous smile. “Have a good night!”

She darted away with surprising speed, melting into the crowd with the ease of someone small enough to squeeze by. It took Kabal a little more time and trouble to follow her, and by that time she was already standing outside. Phoenix had stepped down a quieter side street, probably to call for a car, and she wasn’t alone.

There was a guy looming over her, clutching her arm so hard that Kabal could see the pinch of discomfort in her features through the brave defiance masking it. The man (who he assumed was Matthew) looked like an asshole. Blond hair, square jaw, wearing designer clothes and an expensive watch.

“I don’t belong to you,” she snapped just as Kabal got close enough to hear.

Matthew sneered. “You might as well.”

She jerked back, but the grip on her arm was too tight for her to get away. “Let go of me.”

“You haven’t been right since the accident,” Matthew accused.

“You mean I don’t put up with this anymore,” she shot back, eyes narrowed.

Holy shit, she had claws after all. Kabal almost wanted to keep watching, but from the way Matthew’s expression went stormy, it looked like she was in over her head. Better to step in now. God knew why, but Kabal was a man of action and instinct. Besides, whatever else he was, he respected women.

“This guy bothering you?” Kabal asked.

They both turned as he strolled up, Phoenix’s eyes widening as she recognized him.

“What are you…?” She cut herself off as Matthew released her to step in between them, posturing like a peacock.

“This is a private conversation,” he said.

Kabal snorted. “Not very private when she’s yelling at you, dipshit.”

Over Matthew’s shoulder, Phoenix bit her lip against a giggle. Kabal smirked and crossed his arms as Matthew stormed up, getting in his face.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” he snarled.

Phoenix shifted, drawing her arms close to herself and looking conflicted. Matthew didn’t seem to realize how much danger he was in, but she seemed to have some idea. That was no surprise; Kabal didn’t try to look like a “nice” guy.

“You really know how to treat a lady, huh?” he scoffed.

Matthew rolled his eyes. “Fuck off, that’s my girlfriend.”

“No, I’m not,” she chimed in, sounding insulted. Good enough.

When Matthew turned to snap something back at her, Kabal clocked him clean across the face. Phoenix yelped in shock, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as she stared. Matthew hit the cement like a sack of potatoes, out cold. She blinked at his prone form, then Kabal, dead silent for a few moments as she lowered her arms.

“A-are you still going to kill me?” she asked.


	2. Thunder Inside of My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I used to be  
> Overwhelmed by every little thing  
> Torn apart, unraveled at the seams  
> I think it rooted in the way I breathe..."
> 
> Nix and Kabal have a little heart to heart over some (tragically) decaffeinated coffee. He's charmed but she doesn't know it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh... so the title for this story is BORNS "American Money" because honestly... that's almost exactly how Kabal thinks and sees Nix (and his eventual relationship with her). All the chapter titles are lyrics from that song.
> 
> The verse in the description above is from Tessa Violet's "Haze" which is probably a good representation of how Nix lived before becoming a psychic and meeting Kabal.

Nix wasn’t sure how or why things happened to her. Yes, she’d been aware that someone was planning to kill her for… three days? Four? So hard to keep track of time when it didn’t have to do with school or holidays.

To be fair, she’d done the reasonable thing and freaked out at first. Someone had taken out a professional hit on her! What the fuck was up with that?! However, she’d realized that fact midway through a group project on the immunopathology of the bubonic plague, so the hitman situation had taken a backseat. The guy hadn’t been planning to do the deed right at that moment, and she’d really needed an A on that assignment.

And then, like most college students, she’d sort of just… procrastinated dealing with it. As long as it wasn’t an immediate problem, she didn’t have time for it. Not when she had classes and exams and her _family_ to deal with. Plus Matthew, who she actively ducked on a daily basis. So, as long as the paid mercenary kept his distance, Phoenix had tried to ignore it.

In her defense, she had given it some thought one night.

What could she do to stop him? The immediate and obvious answer had been to call the cops, but what were they going to do against a professional killer? Besides, that didn’t solve the problem that there was a hit on her in the first place.

That didn’t leave her with many other options. Self-defense? No, she’d never learned practically skills like that because “Merce children don’t fight like delinquents.”

Kill him? _Her?_ She felt bad squishing spiders. She was one animal cruelty commercial away from going vegetarian. Nope, she had no delusions that she could stomach murder even if she somehow had the skill for it against a (one more time now) _professional mercernary_.

Her last-ditch hope was that he wouldn’t follow through. She could tell that he was wavering, that he wasn’t committed to the job and that day by day, his resolve crumbled little by little. Exerting influence over people was beyond her power, but maybe she could convince him when they finally met. Assuming he didn’t snipe her or something, anyway.

Then Katy had suggested they go out because they needed a night of fun. The mercenary had followed them, like he had been for the past few days. Nix was almost used to it by that point. When they’d gotten to the nightclub, she’d lost track of him in the press of bodies and minds. Between enjoying herself and blocking out all the “noise,” she had even forgotten for a little bit.

Then Matthew had shown up and ruined everything. The stress of that had been enough to crack her walls. Suddenly there had been too much. Too many people, too little space. She’d had to get away, get home where it was quiet and safe. Besides, if Matthew had seen the guy she was dancing with…

She’d refused to get kicked out of her favorite nightclub because he started a fight over petty bullshit, so she’d made a hasty retreat. Then Matthew had followed before she could call for an Uber like she’d planned. And _then_ the guy she’d been dancing with joined them, and she recognized his presence as the mercenary.

And when he’d punched Matthew…

Matthew was currently being babysat by Katy, who Nix had called because she couldn’t bring herself to leave him unconscious on the sidewalk, even after everything. She figured it was enough that he’d gotten knocked out by a mercenary.

Who was now sitting across from her. Staring. Because she’d asked if he was going to follow through on the hit, and they’d somehow ended up at a café that ran on college student hours. She supposed the staring was better than the alternative, considering he’d yet to give her an answer on the whole murder thing.

Sighing, she gazed into the depths of her latte, rubbing her thumb against the ceramic rim. Well, it _had_ been a fun night, especially the dancing. The awkward, intense silence was still better than dealing with Matthew, though.

“How did you figure it out?” the mercenary asked, breaking the silence.

Her eyes flicked up to gauge his expression. Still staring, a mix of suspicion and curiosity. Still too handsome to be legal. Hard to focus. She cast her gaze towards the window, where the darkened street was empty save for the occasional car. It wasn’t even midnight yet, but the sidewalks were nearly deserted. No one except the baristas in the café if he decided to just cut his losses.

“Well, um…” she began, trying to think of a lie.

Usually she had a believable answer prepared. Some variation of “you’ve mentioned it before” because no one ever remembered everything they’d said.

“Don’t do that,” he said, frowning. “If it’s not the truth, then don’t bother. I know I didn’t slip up.”

Well fuck. She ran a hand through her hair and sipped her coffee, trying to buy herself some extra time. It was no use. She was stressed and tired, reasonable excuses were eluding her.

“I… I mean, I could tell you, but I don’t think you’ll believe me,” she offered, “and I don’t want you to get mad about it.”

He snorted and arched an eyebrow. “Try me.”

Her extra sense was a little shot from the nightclub, but she reached out anyway. He felt confused and wary, maybe impatient, but not violent. At least not yet. It wasn’t much to go on, but she’d take it.

“I’m psychic,” she offered, and nibbled on a croissant while that processed.

“Psychic,” he repeated.

She nodded and propped her chin on her hand as she finally worked up the nerve to look at him again. Was it wrong to admire his face when he’d been planning to kill her? Was that vapid? Whatever. She liked looking at him and it was helping her cope. If someone was going to kill her, it might as well be someone attractive.

“Like… the kind that see ghosts?” he asked.

She snorted. “Haven’t seen any ghosts yet, but I’ll keep you posted.”

The corners of his lips twitched as he downed his own drink— a simple dark roast, no cream but she’d seen him sneak a packet of sugar. By contrast, Nix’s coffee included a lot of chocolate syrup, a dollop of whipped cream, and powdered cinnamon.

“Then what kind of psychic are you?” he asked.

She shrugged. “The empathic kind. I can sense people’s emotions, and sometimes their thoughts.”

He twitched, alarm flaring up in his mind and she shook her head.

“Not yours and not now,” she assured him. “I have to try if I want to hear thoughts. I’m too tired, and I don’t like doing it.”

That set him at ease a little, surprisingly enough. Not much, but enough that his shoulders loosened. She wouldn’t have expected her word to mean much to someone like him, but if it did then she would accept it.

The weird part was that he wasn’t even questioning it? What kind of life was he living that he believed she was psychic just because she’d said so? Don’t get her wrong, she was glad she didn’t have to prove it because she was running on fumes, but still. Was he that confident in his own stalking skills that supernatural perception was the most viable explanation for getting busted?

“Have you always been like this?” he asked.

She shook her head with a nervous smile. This was the part where he’d probably have his doubts— and with good reason. The story was fucking insane, but at least she had physical evidence to back it up.

“I got struck by lightning about a year ago,” she explained. “One minute I’m on the beach, enjoying the sun and wind and waves like an Instagrammer. The sky was totally clear, and the next thing I know, _boom._ ”

“Boom?”

“ _Boom_!” She made a bursting motion with her hands. “I was lying in the sand with all this glass around me. My brain felt like white static on TV and half my body was tingling.”

He arched his eyebrows and she tugged the collar of her shirt aside, revealing the branching fractals where electricity had coursed through her. The scar was still reddish pink even after a year, originating right on the ball joint of her shoulder.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

She hummed in agreement and straightened her shirt again before continuing. “I didn’t realize something was off until after I’d gotten some rest at the hospital. I’ve been like this ever since.”

At “this” she gestured to her head in general, which included the purple hair and the (“it’s just the lighting, don’t be silly”) violet eyes on top of the sixth sense. The doctors hadn’t been able to explain that either. Had just sort of shrugged it off and told her to dye it back if she didn’t like it.

“I figured out you wanted to kill me about… three days ago, maybe? When people are focused on me, it tends to draw my attention,” she finished, shrugging.

He arched his eyebrows as she took a long sip of her coffee, eyeing him over the rim of her mug.

“And you didn’t do anything?” he asked, skeptical. “You knew I was a mercenary sent to kill you, and you just… what? Weren’t worried about it?”

She scrunched her nose up and glanced away. It probably wouldn’t reflect well on her if she admitted that that was almost exactly what had happened. Last thing she needed was for him to think she was any more of a pushover than she was. Not that it made sense for her to care about his opinion, but she’d given up on being logical a long time ago.

“Well, what would you have suggested?” she challenged. “Running away? Would that have honestly worked?”

Not that that had been an option. She had class. Her dad would kill her himself if she ran away from her responsibilities without a word, and explaining the situation wasn’t an option.

He grimaced. “No.”

She hummed. “Cops?”

“Definitely not.”

Feeling like she’d made her point, she leaned back in her seat. “It’s not that I wasn’t worried, but there wasn’t anything I could do. I decided to focus on what was in front of me and try to enjoy myself until you made a move. Now we’re here.”

He frowned a little, thumb tapping against the side of his own mug. Nix let her eyes drop back to the tabletop as she swallowed another mouthful of coffee, wondering how her life got so weird and dangerous. Maybe it was her deep and unfailing love for anything glow-in-the-dark. Someone hated her sweet sense of style.

“Do… you know why?” she asked after a moment. That probably wasn’t a thread she wanted to tug on, but no one ever said she was smart.

He shrugged. “I don’t ever ask why, but I know that whoever it is, they’re paying… a lot.”

Ouch. Nix couldn’t help her wince. Who had she pissed off that badly? She was no saint, but she didn’t think she’d upset anyone enough that they’d pay to have her killed. Maybe Matthew— but then, she’d always figured that if/when he wanted her dead, he’d do it himself or get his friends to do it.

“You look like a kicked puppy,” he groaned, shaking his head. “Look, forget about it, okay? I’m not going to kill you.”

She blinked, hope and relief making her so dizzy that her vision went a little spotty. He frowned and leaned across the table to tap the back of her hand. She jerked, a bolt of information hitting her and snapping her out of it. Well, at least she knew that he meant what he said. He really wasn’t going to kill her.

“Hey, breathe,” he said. “Don’t pass out in a fucking café.”

Nix inhaled deeply, the flood of oxygen clearing her vision. Her eyes focused on the mercenary, his expression going slack with his own relief as he realized she was recovering from the near-blackout.

“You alright?” he asked. She nodded, knowing her eyes were a little too wide. “Good, because I’m going to make sure no else kills you, either. Including yourself… even on accident.”

A giggle bubbled out of her at that. It might have sounded a touch hysterical, but that was also sort of how she always laughed. “Easier said than done.”

He let out an amused breath. “I’m starting to get that.”

She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “So… what now?” she asked.

He downed the rest of his coffee in one big gulp and pushed his chair back. Nix began to follow on instinct, stuffing the last of her croissant in her mouth when he wasn’t looking.

“Now, I take you back to your place,” he explained, “you pack your things, and then you come stay with me until I can figure something out with my boss.”

The barista behind the counter waved as they left and Nix waved back, feeling awkward that her mouth was too full to thank them aloud. The mercenary— she really needed to learn his name— glanced back to check on her when she remained silent for too long.

“Did you… shove that whole thing in your mouth?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

She hummed the affirmative and chewed quickly, ducking under his arm when he held the door open for her. The weather outside the café was comfortable, at least. Not too chilly with spring coming, and the coffee was warm in her belly. She finally managed to swallow as he came to stand beside her.

“Thank you,” she said. “Also, what’s your name? And what do you mean about staying with you?”

He huffed and began walking down the sidewalk, hands jammed into the front pockets of his pants as she fell into step beside him. She wasn’t sure if it was irritation at all the questions or continued amusement, but she figured she should probably ease up on all the questions anyway. Probably not smart to piss off a guy like him, especially since he was helping her.

“Call me Kabal,” he answered, “and you’re living with me until I sort this out because it’s the safest place you can be right now.”

“Oh.” Well, that made sense, she supposed. Her initial response was to be wary of staying with a strange man, but her powers had already confirmed that Kabal wasn’t going to hurt her. Besides, she didn’t have any better alternatives. He was the professional, not her.

“Wait, you live nearby?” she asked.

“I have a place about four hours from yours,” he explained. “We’ll drive there once you get packed.”

He hadn’t parked far from the nightclub, so it wasn’t a long walk, but she stopped dead when she saw the only vehicle parked on the street. She could only stare, not sure what to think or feel. An invigorating yet conflicting mix of excitement and fear.

Kabal swung his leg over the sleek body of the motorcycle, looking sinfully perfect with his forearms resting on the handlebars. Like a model for a magazine, but so real and so badass. He arched an eyebrow and smirked when she just gawked, too stunned to control her expression or form words.

Fuck, he didn’t have to look that hot, did he? How was that even fair?! And he expected her to live with him for who knew how long? He’d been lying; he was definitely going to kill her with looks alone.

“Something the matter, princess?” he drawled.

Thank god it was so dark, because Nix knew her face was bright red. “I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before,” she admitted. “How do I…?”

He grinned and sat up, balancing the bike between his thighs. And they were such nice thighs, too… “Don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

She inched closer and accepted the hand he offered, grateful that she wasn’t wearing a skirt. Kabal’s hands were big and warm and calloused, steady and strong in a way that was unexpectedly comforting. With his help, she managed to straddle the seat and settled on the cushion close behind him. He pointed out where to place her feet and then offered her his helmet. When she expressed concern for his own safety, he just waved her off and told her to put it on.

She leaned back a little as she fiddled with it. “And then I just…?”

He chuckled. “You put your arms around me, yeah. That’s all you gotta do until we get to your place.”

Of course. She wasn’t sure if some higher power was testing her or looking out for her, but she was more than certain that they were laughing. Face burning ever hotter, she buckled herself into the helmet and hugged his abdomen, praying that he couldn’t feel her heart thumping against his back.

With a swift, confident motion, the bike rumbled to life with a purr that Nix felt all the way in her stomach. Her arms tightened around him as he shot off into traffic, apparently immune to speed limits and traffic laws. Adrenaline flooded her system like another bolt of electricity as they merged onto the highway in record time, weaving through traffic like a video game.

Was she mildly terrified? Yes. Was she also having the time of her life? Kinda. Not only was she riding on her first motorcycle with a man who clearly knew how to drive it, but said man was damn fine. And she had her arms around him. Nix was overly aware of every shift and tense of the hard muscles beneath his jacket.

It was the ride of her life and she had him to guide her through it.

Something told her that it was going to be an apt metaphor for her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Katy has some words of advice and Nix spends her first night with Kabal.
> 
> If you have any requests for oneshots or even just want to chat, my tumblr is charliemwrites. Feel free to stop by and say hi!


	3. There's No Time for Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix handles things like a college student. Kabal is a little lost, but Katy knows EXACTLY what she's doing.
> 
> And then... sleepover!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a little longer, I got a weird writer's block for a couple days but I'm mostly satisfied with how this turned out.

Phoenix Merce was… something else. Even after essentially stalking her for three days, Kabal hadn’t been expecting the full force of her personality. Talking to her himself was another experience from _watching_ her talk to people. He suddenly understood why her friends seemed so enthralled when she got going. Everything about her was engaging, from her animated expressions to her enthusiastic hand gestures, to the peaks and valleys in her cadence.

Sitting across from her at the café, Kabal had marveled that he’d ever thought he could follow through on the job. He wasn’t sure if it was a built-in defense mechanism from her psychic abilities or just that he was losing his touch. Either way, he had a feeling that he’d pitched himself headfirst down a very slippery slope.

The way she smiled at him, hesitant but trusting and hopeful. The flat but soft honesty that she spoke with and they way her eyes lit up when she did. Brave in her own way, too. Kabal wasn’t always the most sentimental guy, but he knew it took a lot to do what she’d done that night. Admit her secrets, stand up to a guy like him, face her potential death. He was kind of impressed, if he was honest…

A very, _very_ slippery slope.

They rolled into the parking lot for the apartment she rented on campus, but Kabal pulled up in front of the building. Nix hadn’t made a single noise since he’d started driving, even though he’d expected at least a little shrieking. He would have thought she’d passed out, except for how tight she’d clutched him the whole time.

That hold didn’t loosen even as the bike came to a stop and Kabal bit back laughter. Brave in her own way, indeed.

“We’re here,” he said, tapping the back of her hand.

“Oh, sorry!” Phoenix said, unlatching her fingers from his coat. He helped her swing her leg over the bike again, noting the fine tremble in her hand as she held his for support.

He nudged the kickstand down while she fumbled with the helmet buckle and popped it off. When she offered it back to him, he glanced up and snorted. Her hair was all fluffed up and disheveled, and her skin was a little pale, but her eyes were so bright they nearly glowed. She looked fucking ecstatic.

“That was so exciting!” she beamed.

Wait, what? “You had a death grip on me that whole time.”

“Yeah, but it was fun!” she insisted, smiling.

He chuckled and took the helmet, set it on the motorcycle’s seat. “You’re a bit of an adrenaline junky, huh?”

She flushed and sputtered. “I just like new things!”

He smirked and put his hands up in surrender, but he wasn’t convinced. After all, she’d agreed to live with a mercenary for an indefinite length of time and talked about getting hit by lightning like it was a crazy spring break story.

“Let’s head inside before it gets too late,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

She hummed and turned for the doors. “Okay!”

They entered through the apartment building’s lobby. Kabal had never gotten a look at a university residence before. The lights were dimmed for the late hour and mostly deserted, but he could imagine who academic and clean it looked in the daylight.

There was student art and photography on some of the walls, with little placards stating their name and year below. Inspirational and promotional posters on others, advertisements for activities and clubs. The school’s name was plastered everywhere, as if anyone could forget.

There was a desk with a security guard who greeted Nix by calling her “Miss Merce” before eyeing Kabal with distrust.

“Bringing a visitor for the night?” he asked. Did they pay him to sound that disapproving?

“We’re just stopping by to grab some things,” she explained cheerfully. “I’m staying with him tonight.”

The guard frowned a little, looking Kabal up and down with more criticism than wariness this time. He arched a challenging eyebrow in return, daring him to say something.

“You’re taking good care of yourself, right, young lady?” As if it was any of his business.

Phoenix laughed a little and before Kabal realized what was happening, she was hugging his arm and leaning into his side. He twitched, mostly out of surprise, but didn’t try to pull away. After all, what kind of idiot didn’t want a pretty woman like her hanging onto them? He tried not to look too smug at the guard.

“Oh, yeah!” she answered. “I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s visiting from out of town.”

And just like that, the guard leaned back in his seat, completely unconcerned. “Well then, have a good night.”

“You too!” she chirped and guided Kabal down the hall.

They got all the way to the elevator before it hit him. She had lied. Convincingly, at that. He wouldn’t have expected it of her but then again, it had been relatively low stakes. He doubted she could pull off a repeat performance for someone who was actually experienced. Like Kabal himself.

“Sorry about that,” she said and took a tiny step away from him. “I just wanted him to leave us alone.”

He leaned against the back wall of the elevator as she clicked the button for the fourth floor. “It’s fine. Your method is better than mine.”

She shot him a curious look, then seemed to realize what he meant and grimaced. The elevator doors chimed and slid open before she could say anything else about it. Probably for the better. He had a feeling that she tended ask questions without thinking.

The corridor she lived down was quiet and low-lit for “quiet hours,” with dark gray carpeting and white walls. Kabal could hear a few private parties happening behind some of the doors they passed, but it was muffled and unobtrusive. Phoenix’s place was situated in the middle. A pair of googly eyes were stuck to the top of the door, with a whiteboard posting “business hours” and “booty-call” hours below.

“It doesn’t say AM or PM,” he observed, arching an eyebrow.

Phoenix grinned at him over her shoulder as she slid a key in the lock. “That’s the point.”

The door swung in on silent hinges, and Kabal was hit with the scent of laundry detergent and autumn-scented Yankee Candles. It was a pleasant surprise, compared to the scent he expected thanks to Kano and the garbage heaps he slummed in.

“Nix, is that you?”

Katerina Le Claire poked her head around the kitchen doorway to confirm for herself as Kabal closed the door behind them. Where Phoenix’s parents paid for her to attend college (with some harsh stipulations) Katerina was equal parts scholarship and work-study student. She was an aspiring chiropractor who had met Phoenix while they’d still been undergrads, and they’d lived together since admission into grad school.

“It’s me,” Phoenix replied with a little wave. “I’m glad you made it home safe. What happened with Matthew?”

Katy inched out from the kitchen with a curious frown as she glanced at Kabal, who was still standing behind Phoenix’s shoulder.

“I’ll tell you about that if you tell me about your new friend,” she offered.

Phoenix sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah, okay.”

They all crowded onto the couch, Katy and Kabal at two different ends with Phoenix buffering in the middle. The cushions were surprisingly comfortable, with about a hundred pillows and soft blankets piled all over it. It would be a lie to say he didn’t feel out of place, but he settled back as the ladies got to chatting.

“You first, because I think my story is… well, just tell me what happened,” Phoenix said.

Katy huffed. “That fucking idiot. Okay, so here’s the deal…”

Without remorse, Katy had contacted the police to collect Matthew off the street because she didn’t want to be there when he woke up with a big ass bruise on his face. It hadn’t taken the cops long to show up, and then they’d woken Matthew up. He’d been pretty pissed, especially since they’d insisted on “escorting” him back to the police station for public intoxication. Kabal grinned at that, but didn’t miss the way Nix’s shoulders relaxed a little.

“Anyway, I wasn’t feeling the party spirit anymore, so I got a ride home. Then you show up with the hot guy from the club, which is weird,” Katy finished, “because you’re, uh… picky.”

“Actually… he knows about the psychic thing,” Phoenix admitted, then added, “and his name is Kabal.”

Katy’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline as she leaned around Phoenix to stare at him. He gave her a friendly little nod in return.

“ _He_ does?” she asked, incredulous. “You haven’t even told Nate. You only told me because you had ethical issues with it.”

Phoenix winced. Kabal recalled the name from his “studies.” Nathan Merce, her twin brother and the only member of her family she kept in regular, willing contact with. He attended a different grad school for business, so they weren’t as close as they had once been. Apparently enough so that she hadn’t shared her new “condition,” even though it looked like she nursed some guilt about it.

“Well, it’s just that…” and then she burst into tears.

Kabal jerked ramrod straight, alarmed and confused as she pulled her knees up to her chest and hid her face in her arms. She had been fine in the café, and even after the motorcycle ride. Was it the adrenaline high leaving or that everything was hitting her? Maybe both? He’d decided to protect her, and he still would, but he also hadn’t considered exactly _who_ he was protecting.

Phoenix wasn’t a member of Black Dragon. She wasn’t even with Special Forces. She wasn’t a ninja or a warrior of any kind. She was a college student who had, until a year ago, lived a normal and peaceful life. Which meant she dealt with things like a normal person… and Kabal had _no idea_ what to do about that.

The only people who cried in his life were people he was about to kill. He was out of practice offering anyone meaningful comfort. There were rocks more emotionally present than Kano and Erron. Hoping for some clue about what was happening and what he should do, he glanced at Katy. She just offered him a small shrug and rubbed Phoenix’s back.

“This has never _happened_ to me before,” she sobbed. “What am I going to _do?_ ”

Katy frowned. “What do you mean? What happened?”

Phoenix sniffled, apparently not even hearing her roommate. “I didn’t do _anything_. I thought I was a nice person! I pay my taxes and everything!”

Kabal felt like a total asshole, but he was trying really hard not to laugh. He’d never heard anyone cry like that. Maybe he really had spent too much time around Kano and Erron.

Katy looked confused, but supportive.

“Y-you are a nice person, taxes or otherwise,” she promised. “Just tell me what happened.”

So Phoenix told her everything, sniffling and crying the biggest tears Kabal had ever seen. Was he thrilled that she hadn’t asked him before telling Katy the truth? Not really, but he wasn’t about to say anything about it. If she thought her roommate was trustworthy, then he was in no position to disagree.

“So someone wants me dead and I don’t know who or _why_ ,” she finished and dissolved into wordless tears.

He waited a couple moments, and then glanced at Katy again. “Is… she okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “Just let her get it out,” she whispered. “Give it a sec, you’ll see.”

Sure enough, Phoenix sniffled and began wiping at her eyes a couple minutes later. “God, my makeup is _everywhere_ ,” she complained, and her voice sounded stronger if watery. Kabal figured that was a good sign.

Katy patted her head and helped her sit up. “Now the plan is that you stay with Kabal and he’ll protect you?”

Oh yeah, her makeup _was_ everywhere. Black tear marks had made wobbly tracks down her cheeks and jaw. When she glanced at him, he only nodded and offered what he hoped as a reassuring smile. “I’ll take care of you, princess.”

“See, you can’t ask for better than that,” Katy said with an approving nod.

Phoenix laughed a little and nodded, wiping at her face again as her breathing evened out. Then she sighed one last time and stood.

“I’m going to get cleaned up and pack my stuff,” she said. She almost sounded normal that time.

“Drink some water too,” Katy added, poking her in the thigh.

“I will.” Then she glanced at Kabal. “Can I get you anything?”

Surprised, he shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”

She hummed and padded around him, presumably to do what she’d said she would. That left Kabal and Katy alone together on the couch. They eyed each other for a second before he cleared his throat.

“Does she… do that often?” he asked. Better to know now, he figured.

She made a wobbly gesture with her hand. “Not as often as other med students, but more than I think you’re prepared for.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong, because he hadn’t been prepared for any crying whatsoever. “Phoenix just cried and then goes back to what she was doing?”

Katy laughed. “Well, yeah. You just heard me say she’s a med student, right? It’s what we do.” She shrugged as punctuation. “Oh, also, she prefers to be called Nix. The nicknames are cute, though. You should keep that up.”

He stared. Had he just heard her wrong? From the smug quirk to her lips, he definitely had. She was either the best or worst wing-woman in history. “Are you trying to hook us up?”

She blinked. When Nix did it, it was cute and honest. A genuine expression of surprise or confusion. He doubted she even realized when she did it. Katy though… there was definitely nothing innocent about it.

“Well, I mean it’s going to be just you two for a bit… anything could happen,” she mused.

He squinted. “I’m a mercenary.”

Katy snorted. “You also respect women and are super hot.”

Well, yeah, but—

“Hey, Kabal?”

He glanced over the back of the couch as Nix strolled into the living room and couldn’t help an appreciative once over. She’d wiped the ruined makeup off and changed into comfortable clothes— specifically a pair of shorts that showed off miles of leg. Then he took a closer look at the words written on her sweatshirt and smirked.

“Getting cocky now,” he observed, amused.

She blinked. “Huh?”

He nodded to her clothes and she glanced down. The bold words “GOD WON’T LET ME DIE” was printed in big white block letters. Her mouth dropped open; apparently, she hadn’t even noticed.

“Oh. I-I mean…” She narrowed her eyes a little. “You know what? Yes, I am. Ya girl got struck by lightning and she’s still here, drinking tea and procrastinating papers.”

Katy burst into laughter, covering his own chuckle as Nix set her hands on her hips.

“I didn’t come out here so you could make fun of my awesome sweatshirt,” she insisted. “I wanted to know how much I should pack.”

He shrugged. “You’re following me in your car, so pack like you’re staying at a hotel. Bring at least a week’s worth of clothes and whatever else you might need.”

She hummed. “A week,” she repeated to herself. “Okay, give me twenty minutes!”

Almost exactly twenty minutes later, she stumbled out again with a bright pink duffel bag and two backpacks. He arched an eyebrow, not sure what he found so unexpected. That a shade of pink that loud existed, the fact that her two other bags were so sparkly, or that she’d managed to carry everything at once.

“Why the second backpack?” he asked as he stood.

“Textbooks,” she groaned. “Can you take it, since it seems like you actually work out?”

Kabal slid the backpack she offered him onto one shoulder and scooped up the duffel with the other. The first was much heavier than he expected, and he whistled lowly, impressed. He wasn’t the only one impressed if Nix’s appreciative glance was anything to go by, but he’d let it pass.

“Fuck, you sure you didn’t pack rocks?” he teased.

“I wish,” she groaned. “Rocks are way less expensive and far more interesting.”

She and Katy said their goodbyes, with well wishes and a few suggestive winks that made Nix blush and Kabal pretended not to notice. To his relief, there were no more tears or panic attacks, and then they were walking out the door.

“You’ll be alright to follow me in your car?” he asked as they stood in the elevator.

“If you don’t drive like you did earlier,” she offered, shrugging.

He snorted. “Like you’re sixteen. Got it.”

“Rude!” she huffed. “Speed limits aren’t just suggestions, you know.”

“They are for me.”

***

“This is a hell of a bachelor pad,” Nix said as soon as they entered.

They were staying at a private and expensive condo near the beach, one of Kabal’s favorite places even though he didn’t get to visit it as often as he wanted. It was exactly what he’d envisioned for himself when he’d been a poor kid scraping to get by. New appliances, nice furniture, high-as-fuck ceilings, and plenty of space.

Nix practically had stars in her eyes as she toed her shoes off by the door. “It smells like new carpet.”

“That’s because the carpets are new,” he admitted, shrugging.

He set her bricks— ahem— _textbooks_ by the living room armchair and continued down the hall with her duffel bag. Nix trailed after him, head on a swivel as she soaked in every luxury detail. He stopped right outside the only bedroom and turned to her.

“Listen, I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but I was distracted,” he began.

She turned her attention back to him with a curious tilt to her head. “Okay?”

“There’s only one bed, and the couch is broken.”

She blinked. “Oh. How did it break?”

“An… argument.” And by argument, he meant suplexing Kano straight through the frame. The same “argument” that required new carpets, too. From the way Nix’s eyes widened, she’d caught on to the understatement and chose not to ask for more details.

She tucked her hair behind one ear as her cheeks turned rosy. “Does… that mean we’re sharing?”

A nicer guy wouldn’t have been so satisfied making her blush. A nicer guy probably would have offered to sleep on the floor or in the living room armchair. But Kabal wasn’t a nicer guy, and he didn’t feel like waking up with cramps and stiff joints.

“Yeah.” He arched an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You good with that, princess?”

She got even pinker. “Y-yeah! It’s fine.”

Hiding his amusement, he nudged the door open and gestured for her to enter first. She slipped around him and made an excited noise as soon as she saw the bed. Kabal chuckled as he set her duffel by the closet. He couldn’t blame her, either. The mattress was huge and just as comfortable as it looked.

“Go ahead,” he invited.

She slid her other backpack off her shoulder and hopped up, twisting midair to flop on her back with giggle.

“Ooh, that’s soft,” she sighed and stretched, back arching as she extended her arms over her head. Fuck, he didn’t think that through. She looked way too good in his bed.

“Do you need to shower?” he asked quickly.

She cracked an eye open. “Nope. I just need to brush my teeth, but that can wait. I need to email my professors.”

He nodded. “I’ll be out in ten.”

The shower gave Kabal time to realize the full implications of what he’d done. What he’d promised. He had to figure out who wanted Nix dead in the first place so that no one else came after her. Never mind protecting her from other members of the Black Dragon. Kano was going to be pissed, make his work-life a living hell until they worked an even trade.

Even knowing that, Kabal couldn’t bring himself to regret his promise. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to go back on it, no matter how Kano would try to persuade him. Because while he had a tall order ahead of him, Nix would be living with him in the meantime.

Sleeping in his bed. Showering in his tub. Eating meals and watching TV with him. Was it weird that he was… kind of looking forward to it? He hadn’t known her for very long, true. She was practically a stranger, but Kabal was already smitten with what he’d seen.

He thought of her sitting in that café, explaining how she’d been struck by lightning and gifted with psychic powers. How she’d known she could die any day but had chosen to focus on what she could, on the positive. Nix definitely had an interesting way of looking at the world. He had a feeling he’d never be bored with her around.

Kabal had never been one to wait when he knew what he wanted. Speed was kind of his thing.

When he climbed out of the shower, he realized he’d only grabbed a pair of sweatpants out of habit. His metabolism made him too warm to walk around fully-clothed all the time. If it made Nix uncomfortable, he’d sleep in a shirt of course, but he wasn’t going to volunteer to sweat all night either.

A cloud of steam followed him out of the bathroom. Nix was sitting cross-legged on the bed, a sticker-laden laptop open in her lap. She was clicking away, bottom lip caught between her teeth and brows pinched in concentration.

“All that humidity is going to make my hair frizz,” she joked without taking her eyes off the screen.

“It’ll give you— uh, what do the commercials say?” He frowned as he scrubbed his hair dry with his towel. “Volume. That was it.”

She snorted. “Volume and frizz are _not_ — holy shit, you’re ripped.”

He smirked at her from across the room. “Thanks for noticing.”

She squinted at him. “Okay, look, I may be a little loopy because I’m tired, but that’s just unfair.”

With a huff, she snapped her computer shut and wiggled off the bed. He watched her approach him with determination, curious about what she was doing. To his amusement, she sidestepped him to dig into her duffel bag, purposefully avoiding his gaze.

“Y’know, I’m sure you could get pretty cut if you tried,” he offered.

She wrinkled her nose and straightened. Her toothbrush and toothpaste were in one hand, and she pointed both at him threateningly. Not exactly intimidating with her cupcake-print socks, but he’d give her points for trying.

“With what time?” she asked. “And with who? I’d injure myself. I only know how to do distance running.”

He arched his eyebrows, decided to call her bluff. “I’ll show you, if that’s all that’s holding you back.”

She jerked away as if he’d said something offensive. “With _you_?! Jesus, that’s like being coached by Batman or something…” But she groaned and rubbed at her eyes. “Maybe.”

He grinned as Nix stalked off to the bathroom and followed, drawn to her like a magnet. She slanted him a look as he sauntered in, nudged her aside to brush his teeth as well. They had a few peaceful moments of silence until she spit a mouthful of foam into the sink.

“You brush your teeth without water?” she asked, teasingly judgmental.

“Got a problem with that, princess?” he replied.

“ _Yes.”_

He chuckled as she rinsed her mouth and stuck her tongue out at him when she was done. While he finished up, she shrugged out of her sweatshirt and folded it up. The tank-top she was left in said “Bonjour, Bitch” in red cursive.

“Do all your clothes say shit like that?” he asked.

She grinned. “I’m leading with my best looks,” she explained. “Between the ironic shirts, my smeared mascara, and toothpaste everywhere, how could you resist?”

She had no idea.

“How could I?” he agreed, making sure to sound dry yet amused.

They exited the bathroom together and Nix paused by the edge of the bed. “Which side do you usually sleep on?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Wherever. Climb in while I shut everything down.”

As Nix got settled, Kabal went through the condo, turning off lights and double checking that the place was secure. On top of industrial locks, he had a state-of-the-art security system courtesy of the Black Dragon. Not that anyone would be stupid enough to break into his apartment, but if they did, the forewarning would be appreciated because he was a heavy sleeper.

When he returned to the bedroom, Nix was already snuggled under the sheet and hooking her phone into a charger.

“Lights out,” he warned.

“Okay,” she replied with yawn.

The room went dark and Kabal found his way back to the bed by memory, slid beneath the covers and apologized when his knee bumped hers. There was a moment of quiet rustling as they each got comfortable, and then a gentle poke to his shoulder.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Thank you,” she murmured, “for everything.”

His hand twitched up to circle around hers, gave a little squeeze. Saying “you’re welcome” wasn’t right, but he wasn’t sure what else he could say.

“I meant what I said,” he promised. “Just stick with me.”

She hummed. “Speaking of sticking— I have it on good authority that I’m a koala. Just pry me off with a crowbar if I bother you.”

He doubted it could bother him when he was kind of looking forward to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Nix and Kabal share their first morning was "temporary roommates."
> 
> If you have any requests or just want to chat, my tumblr is charliemwrites.


	4. Swimming in the Sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix and Kabal spend their first morning together. Nix realizes this might be a little more challenging than she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha I did it. No Kano just yet, but some sexual tension because hell yeah

Kabal woke when the sun began shining on his face, seeping past his eyelids. There was warmth and pressure against his side, a sweet scent in his nose as he inhaled. For a minute he was confused, because he didn’t feel like he usually did after a night of fantastic sex, but there was a definitely a woman in his bed.

He cracked his eyes open, glanced sideways and down. A cloud of lavender hair greeted him and jogged his memory. Botched job. Pretty psychic. Kano was going to have his head, but at least Kabal was having a really good morning.

Nix hadn’t been kidding when she said she was like a koala. Somehow, she’d migrated across the ample space they’d left between themselves and cuddled up so close that she was nearly under him. Her legs were twined around his, one of his thighs sandwiched between both of hers. Her arms were tucked between his ribs and her chest, and her head was pillowed on the juncture between his shoulder and chest.

He could feel her every exhale brush across his bare skin, warm and gentle like a caress. For a moment, he dozed in that hazy space where things like murder and money and _Kano_ didn’t exist. He could almost pretend that Nix was there because it was normal, not because he had to keep her safe from the entirety of the Black Dragon.

Unfortunately, he was starting to get antsy with hunger and the need to use the restroom, along with the energy produced from a decent night of sleep. More often than not, Kabal tended to be up until ungodly times and slept maybe four to five hours on average. So he had energy to spare… but he really just wanted to lay there.

Nix spared him the disappointment of rousing her by waking up on her own. She inhaled deeply and curled tighter for a moment before letting it out in a long rush. He felt her eyelashes flutter as one of her (small, warm, soft) palms slid across his stomach. She paused when he couldn’t suppress his shudder, her hand retracting slightly to run over his abdomen again.

With a sleepy, confused noise, she tilted her head to blink at him. He knew the minute she recognized him because she made another little sound, almost like she was saying “oh right” and settled again. No words, no jumping into action. In fact, it felt like she was about to fall asleep again.

“Ah, fuck,” he mumbled. “Neither of us are morning people.”

She hummed in agreement. “Sorry I koala-ed you,” she said finally.

“You’re good,” he assured her. “Kind of like a teddy bear.”

She huffed and poked at him. “No, you. You’re so _warm_.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d heard that, but a bolt of pride still went through him. “High metabolism,” he offered.

With a sigh, she rolled away from him. Kabal sat up, twisting and popping joints while Nix stretched her arms lazily over her head. To his surprise, he heard a few telltale pops from her side of the bed as well.

“Damn,” he said, impressed.

“I know, I sound like Rice Krispies cereal,” she groaned and pushed herself upright as well.

Her hair tumbled around her in a mess of curls, sticking up a little on the side she’d been sleeping on. Kabal smiled a little as she blinked and narrowed her eyes against the sunlight, a jaw-cracking yawn escaping her.

“Do you want the bathroom first?” he asked, ever the gentleman to his guest.

She shook her head, hand patting behind her for her phone. “Go ahead.”

Kabal did his morning routine with a little more hustle than usual, charged with energy and overly conscious of how much time he was taking. When he exited, Nix was right where he’d left her, frowning at her phone.

Well, that wasn’t right. Nix was someone who always deserved to have a smile on her face. Especially in the morning.

“Something wrong?” he wondered.

“Someone at the school told my dad that I’m out of town, and now he wants me to call him at lunch,” she explained, wrinkling her nose. It made the pink scar there all the more prominent. He wanted to ask her about that, but he had a more pressing question.

“What is it with your old man?”

Kabal knew that the relationship between them was especially difficult, that her father had cut her off from her own money intermittently throughout her undergrad years. When she opened her own bank account, he’d begun putting generous donations into her grad school and befriending her professors directly. He was a hard-ass about her grades and attendance, overcontrolling disguised as overly concerned in Kabal’s humble opinion.

“I need coffee before I can even begin to get into that,” she replied, grimacing.

“I can make that happen,” he offered.

She shot him a bright smile. “You’re my new favorite person,” she purred.

Kabal snorted and arched an eyebrow. “I wasn’t before?”

Without further answer, she hopped off the bed and sauntered to the bathroom. Smirking to himself, he went to make coffee.

***

The damage wasn’t as bad as Nix anticipated.

When she’d fallen asleep, she’d expected to wake up to a metaphorical housefire. Braced herself for the blazing inferno that her life had become when she’d run off with a mercenary in the middle of the night. Instead, she’d discovered a handful of smaller, more manageable fires. The kind she was used to dealing with; the kind that required fire extinguishers rather than the fire department.

Her father was the worst, but that would have to burn until the afternoon because at fifty-six, David Merce still had both hands clutching the wheel of his company. As if he didn’t have a son already capable of accepting his inheritance. Whatever. She needed coffee and a story to hide behind, and his workaholic nature gave her ample time for both.

The smaller fires were easy. Her professors were understanding of her sudden-and-unexpected-but-vague emergency because she was a diligent student. Getting notes from lecture was her responsibility, but they promised to send her their slides and allow her to send pictures of her lab notebooks even though she wasn’t there to participate.

In fact, her professors and their TAs were all very nice, which was likely why they’d contacted her father. They’d probably reached out with well-wishes for her “emergency” and tipped him off, rather than a deliberate report as her high school teachers had done.

Contacting her study-buddies for notes would be simple, she just had to remember to do it. Her friends who were worried about her sudden disappearance would be easy to reassure as long as she kept her explanation vague. The only trouble was her brother, who was demanding that she call him as soon as she got his message.

That one she felt guilty for ignoring, but Nix knew she needed to talk to Kabal before she started spouting white lies to her twin, of all people.

When she exited the bathroom, freshly washed and dressed, the heavenly scent of coffee greeted her. She followed her nose to the kitchen she’d spotted (and silently drooled over) the night before. There was Kabal, leaning against the counter next to a sleek coffeemaker, still as shirtless and drop-dead gorgeous as ever.

A flood of heat rushed to her cheeks as he glanced up at her with a smile that she felt not many people got to see. It was something softer and sleepier than his usual teasing smirk or cocky grin, and it made her heart thrum in her chest. God, she was in over her head.

“Morning,” he greeted, and offered her a steaming cup of coffee. “There’s sugar and cream on the counter behind you.”

She accepted it with a grateful smile and turned to start fixing it just the way she liked it. There were a few moments of silence while she sipped at it, burning her tongue but satisfying the caffeine-dependent craving. She leaned against the counter opposite Kabal, giving him time to wake up as well.

“So… what’s the plan?” she asked.

He arched an eyebrow. “You’re staying with me.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, I know,” she replied. “I meant, what’s the plan from here? What’s happening today? Tomorrow…?”

He shook his head. “Let’s just start with today, okay?”

She nodded, waited patiently for him to continue while she nursed her drink. Why was every important conversation they had over coffee? She was starting to see a trend, not that she was complaining.

“When you finish your mug, we’re going to breakfast and then a supply run, because there’s nothing to eat here,” he explained. Nix began making a mental grocery list while she continued listening to him. “I’ve got to head to ‘work’ at about seven, and whatever happens there will determine the plan for tomorrow.”

She nodded. Seemed like a fair plan, easy to follow. Kabal didn’t look (or feel) thrilled about “work” either, so she imagined he was in for hell on that front. Hopefully, the bullet he was taking for her wasn’t literal…

Oh god.

“You’re going to be okay, right?” she asked, and she couldn’t hide the raw worry in her voice.

As stressed as she generally was, she didn’t think she could cope with him dying on top of everything else. Nix really liked Kabal already, and even though she didn’t feel like she owed someone for sparing her life, she did feel some kind of way about him behind fatally injured because he was protecting her.

His eyebrows shot up, surprise flickering through her awareness even as he smirked at her, teasing. “Worried about me?”

She blinked. “ _Yes._ What kind of question is that?”

He chuckled and shook his head, the expression softening. “Don’t worry about me, cupcake, I’ve got everything under control.”

Nix swallowed and nodded, knowing it was better to just believe him, and then it hit her. Her mouth dropped open. “Cupcake?”

The smirk was back. She knew he was just trying to distract her, and she chose to let him. It was too early for a panic attack.

“Finish your coffee,” he said, “I’m getting hungry.”

She shrugged and glanced away, feeling her cheeks burn despite her haughty tone. “Then, starve.”

“Ah, don’t be cranky,” he laughed. “Don’t you want cinnamon rolls or something?”

Well, fuck him for correctly guessing that she had a wicked sweet tooth. Nix stuck her tongue out at him but finished her drink while he went to get dressed. By the time he returned, she was rinsing her mug in the sink. As she glanced up, she froze. Kabal looked damn fine in a pair of dark Levis.

And that jacket… she was definitely going to steal it.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Yeah, let me get my keys.”

He shook his head and dug a set out of his own pocket. “We’re taking mine. It, uh… blends in more.”

She blinked at him, not quite sure what that meant but rolling with it for the sake of cinnamon rolls. Ten minutes later, she had her answer as Kabal used the left lane to pass the fourth Tesla she’d seen already. Though she’d registered that his place was swanky, it hadn’t occurred to her that it wasn’t just his condo. The whole area wreaked of old and new money, but money nonetheless.

Sitting in the passenger seat of Kabal’s Jaguar, she realized that Tired-Nix was kind of a bubble head.

“Am I dressed well enough for wherever you’re taking me?” she inquired.

He shot her an amused look. “You’re dressed better than I am.”

Which she figured was his version of a reassuring answer. Thankfully, while the bistro they ate at was nice, it wasn’t dress-and-makeup fancy. They sat out on a patio, Nix soaking up the sunlight and enjoying the sound of the waves nearby.

“It’s been a while since I last got to see the ocean,” she said, “it’s nice.”

Kabal draped his arm over the back of her chair, close but not smothering. There was another seat across from her that he could have taken, but he’d slid into the one next to her, and she wasn’t about to protest. She appreciated his comforting presence; she felt secure next to him.

“We can go down to the beach later today if you want,” he offered.

And wasn’t that a delicious thought? Kabal walking around shirtless and sweaty— or better yet, soaking wet. She’d gotten to see him that morning and the night before, but she’d been too exhausted to properly appreciate.

Fuck, he was set on testing her self-control, wasn’t he? Was it the “let’s see how long it takes Nix to climb Kabal like a tree” game? Thankfully, she had an out.

She sighed. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

“We’re going shopping anyway,” he reminded with a shrug, “we’ll just get one then.”

Of course it couldn’t be that easy…

“Maybe,” she allowed.

Luckily, their food came and Kabal was sufficiently distracted from the conversation.

***

They were just putting the groceries (sans swimsuit) away when her phone rang. Nix grimaced as the ID flashed across the screen, but it was better to answer than let him call the cops on grounds that she was “missing.” Or worse, had her _mom_ call. Sighing, she stepped out of the kitchen and pressed the phone to her ear.

“Hey, dad,” she answered.

“Phoenix, what the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?”

Ah, fuck, he was already swearing. Not a good sign. She cringed as she inched further from the kitchen, where Kabal was still shelving their groceries. He’d shot her a concerned look as she’d been leaving, but she’d given him was she hoped was a convincingly reassuring smile.

“What do you mean?” she stalled.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” he demanded. “I know you’re not at school right now. Where are you?”

She scrambled for a second, remembering the story she and Kabal had decided on. “I’m with Katy. She had a family emergency and—”

“How is that your problem?” he interrupted sharply.

Nix sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. It wasn’t that her parents didn’t like Katy, which was about the closest they got to approving of anyone who didn’t run in the same circles as Matthew. _I don’t know how to explain that I care about other people_ , she thought to herself, not for the first time, _and you should too._

Yeah, “compassionate” and “sympathetic” were not words she associated with her father. Cold, rigid. Those were more appropriate descriptors. Granted, she was spouting a total lie so it might not have been valid to get frustrated over it this time, but still.

“She’s my best friend and she needed support,” she replied.

“And who’s going to ‘support’ your grades, Phoenix Elise?” he countered.

Oh, great. They were on middle names too. He was really worked up over this. Was it just an overreaction or was something else bothering him? It wouldn’t have been the first time his frustrations had been channeled into lecturing her.

“I am,” she answered, and then added with barely restrained irritation, “like I always do.”

“If I see your GPA drop so much as a hundredth…” he warned.

“It won’t.” There was a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. Kabal was leaning his shoulder in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed over his chest. The burn of embarrassment crawled up her throat even as she appreciated the curves of his biceps. She was being reprimanded like a child over the phone.

“I’ve got to go. Nathan still wants me to call him and I have work to do if I’m going to keep my grades up.”

She hit the end icon before he could humiliate her any further. Talking to her dad really needed to be kept to holidays and special occasions. Did nearly dying count as a special occasion? The way her life was going, the answer was becoming no.

Groaning, she tossed her phone onto the couch and ran a hand through her hair.

“You alright?” Kabal asked after a moment.

She sighed. “Yeah… he’s just…”

“An asshole?” he offered, arching an eyebrow. She couldn’t even say he was overstepping, because that was exactly what she’d been about to say.

She turned to him and managed a half-smile. “I think I want to go to the beach after all.”

He grinned and pushed off the doorway. “Then let’s get you swimsuit.”

***

“I can’t believe you have superspeed,” Nix complained through the crack in the bathroom door, “and that you used it to pay for this stupid swimsuit.”

She could almost sense his arched eyebrow. “If it’s so stupid, why did you want it?”

Nix glared at the wood grain as she tied the strings behind her neck. One minute she’d had the cute bee-print bikini in her hand, the next Kabal had snatched it and bolted across the store to the registers. There had practically been black marks on the tiles.

Probably her fault for telling him ahead of time that she planned to pay for it. Rather than argue, he’d just grabbed it and bolted. She’d never realized he was technically a criminal more than in that moment.

“It’s not like I don’t have the money,” he’d reasoned when she’d finally caught up to him.

“Your boyfriend is so sweet,” the cashier had cooed, making googly eyes at Kabal.

And while Nix had thought _I wish_ and _Same, girl,_ he’d looped an arm around her waist and guided her out of the store. Caught between manners and indignation, she’d thanked him even while she’d punched him in the shoulder. It hadn’t done much except make her feel better and him laugh, though, so she wasn’t sure he wouldn’t do it again.

“That’s not the point,” she said, yanking the door open with a whoosh. She ignored how his eyes widened the second he saw her standing there. Now was not the time for insecurity to rear its head; she was trying to be dramatic. “That was a terrible use of superpowers. Haven’t you ever seen Spiderman?”

Obviously not listening to her anymore, Kabal stood from his perch on the edge of the bed and _stalked_ closer, all broad shoulders and cut muscle and height. Nix blinked up at him, comedic bravado fading at his intense expression. She wasn’t sure how to read him yet and she was almost afraid to reach out with her powers.

His gaze traced over her, appreciative but not possessive or creepy. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought it was because of where his eyes lingered. Not on her boobs— which were admittedly looking _damn good_ — and not on her stomach or thighs. Instead, he got distracted by the scar on the bridge of her nose, and her mouth when she bit her bottom lip, and then finally the mark the lightning had left.

Her lungs stuttered as he lifted a hand and reached for her, only to hesitate a few inches from making contact. His eyes bounced back to hers as he cleared his throat.

“Is it— Can I see them?” he asked, voice a little rough.

Oh, wow. He’d… actually asked. People tended to just do it when they wanted to touch her scars. A pang of guilt hit her for thinking he’d be like Matthew and just put his hands on her whenever he wanted. Kabal hadn’t done anything untoward— had been nothing but respectful of her space so far as sleeping in the same bed could allow.

“Y-yeah,” she replied. Her brain managed to scrape up a brain cell at the last second and remind her of one small ethical detail. “But if you touch me, my powers will uh… connect more. I can keep some things out, but not everything. Just so you know.”

He considered her for a long moment, brow furrowed a little. “Well, you’ve given me a lot of trust. I think I can give you a little in return.”

Her heart stumbled once at the words, and then again when his fingertips connected with the starburst where the lightning struck, feeling the slight raise in her skin. From there, he followed the spidering veins down her bicep until they trailed off at her elbow. His touch was featherlight, a caress that made her skin tingle like she’d been hit by lightning a second time.

He backtracked to the ball joint of her shoulder and traced the delicate rivers of scar tissue that stretched across her collarbone and skirted her throat. Little pieces of information filtered into her mind. His pinpoint focus. Muted awe. A low-grade, liquid desire that spread like slow fire through her stomach.

Wait, was that hers or Kabal’s?

Well, all she had to do was stretch up on her toes… maybe tug him down a little bit, just a few centimeters, and she could…

“Most of it is on my back,” she managed, voice uneven.

With gentle prodding, she turned so he could see the rest. He brushed her curtain of hair over her other shoulder, the callouses on his hands and the brush of her curls inciting a shiver that she knew he noticed. It took everything in her not to do it again when he caressed the scars as they webbed along her shoulder blade and down one side of her spine, extending all the way beneath the waistband of her bikini bottoms.

His palm settled on her hip, where a few tendrils snaked over the bone and she resisted the (very) strong urge to press back against him. There were good reasons not to do that, she was sure. She just couldn’t think of any at that moment.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

She had to inhale to speak, and that helped clear some of the haze clouding her mind. “The scar or how I got it?”

He hummed low in his throat and she bit down on the inside of her cheek to resist doing something rash. “Both.”

“I can’t remember if the lightning hurt or not… but it must have.” She cleared her throat a little. “The scars don’t hurt. They’re just sensitive.”

He made another of those rumbling, contemplative noises and she squeezed her eyes shut. His thumb was rubbing hypnotical little circles into her skin, spreading warmth from that one point of contact through her whole body.

“Want me to help you with sunscreen?” he asked.

Yeah, because that was just what her fragile self-control needed. More of his wide, warm, rough hands all over—

“Yes, please.”

She was almost grateful when he didn’t bother to warm up the lotion before it touched her skin. When she yelped, it was equal parts discomfort at the temperature and getting out some of her frustration. She’d never wanted to jump someone as bad as she wanted to jump Kabal.

“That’s cold!” she complained.

He chuckled. “Sorry, princess. Should I put it in the microwave next time?”

She clicked her tongue at him, grateful for the distraction even though her voice wasn’t quite normal yet.

“Listen, Mister High Metabolism, I think you can afford to warm it up with your hands at least,” she fussed.

“You’ll have a chance to get me back,” he promised.

She was about to retort when his fingers dipped just beneath the edge of her bathing suit bottoms and she gasped quietly. Not because it made her uncomfortable, but because she wanted him to keep going. She knew he was just being thorough— making sure she would be covered even if the swimsuit migrated— but goddamn if it wasn’t testing her.

“Still cold?” he inquired, and she would’ve known by his tone even without her powers that he was smirking. Bastard. Sexy bastard, but that was beside the point.

Officially reaching her limit, she spun on her heel and yup. One side of his mouth was curled up, just as she’d suspected. Narrowing her eyes, she held out a hand.

“Gimme,” she demanded without answering his question.

Amused, he dropped the bottle of sunscreen in her hand and turned around to let her apply. Taking up his offer to retaliate, she smeared an ice-cold glob across his shoulders and tried not to get distracted by the play of rock-hard muscles beneath her hands. It helped that she was salty that he didn’t even flinch at the temperature.

“Keep being smug and I’ll make sure you get weird tan lines,” she threatened. “How would you like a big-ass heart on your back?”

He shot her look over his shoulder. “Only if your initials are in it.”

The noise she made was not at all ladylike, nor did it make him less smug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Nix adopts and Kabal finally faces the music with Kano
> 
> My tumblr is charliemwrites if you have questions, requests, or just want to chat.


	5. Green Like American Money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix and Kabal adopt. Kano is pissed. Erron is entertained.
> 
> There's going to be blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I didn't like Kano much before, but after trying to write his dialogue... I really hate him.

Nix squinted at Kabal from the shoreline, camped out on a big fluffy bathroom towel because he didn’t own beach towels— which were, apparently, a thing that existed. As content as she otherwise looked lounging in the sun, her expression was as close to “fuck you” as she could get without being angry. He grinned from the water.

“I thought you liked the ocean,” he said.

“I like being _near_ the ocean,” she corrected. “Why do you think I’m on the beach even though last time didn’t end so well for me?”

He snorted, eying the fractal patterns of her scar again. The sensory memory of feeling them beneath his fingers was still far too fresh to linger on. The way her skin felt and the way she reacted to his touch… yeah, nope, better to stop there. That way lay uncomfortable swim-trunks and trapping himself in waist-deep water, so better to focus on coaxing Nix in with him.

“Well, you can swim, can’t you?” he asked.

She shot him an offended look. “Of course! I’m not completely helpless, you know?”

He snorted. It was less about her being a damsel-in-distress, and more about her father doing everything in his power to leave her underprepared to take care of herself. Kabal couldn’t stand shit like that, and he was going to make damn sure Nix could at least defend herself before the week was out.

“Then why not come in?” he teased.

She arched an eyebrow over the rim of her sunglasses. “Because it’s spring and the water’s cold. You don’t mind because men get hot, so you do shit like wear shorts in winter, but I’m not built like that.”

He grinned throughout her little rant, amused by the flush of color in her cheeks from raising her voice so it would carry over the waves. It was true that he didn’t think the water temperature was that bad, but she’d been laying in the sun for a while already. She had to be overheating… and he _had_ promised to take care of her, hadn’t he?

“Is that a biological fact?” he asked as he climbed out of the water.

There was a brief but very noticeable pause as she stared at him and swallowed. Kabal bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking at her. Nix turned back to the textbook she’d dragged down to the sand with her, cheeks flushed, and he doubted it was from the heat this time.

“Yes, actually,” she replied, “I’m sure it’s an even bigger difference for you with your super-metabolism. I’m sure your core temperature runs much warmer than average.”

He kept strolling towards her as she spoke, keeping his posture relaxed and his thoughts purely amused. The psychic powers provided an extra challenge, but one he would have fun learning to circumvent. So far, his plan seemed to be working…

Oh, shit.

Her head snapped up. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

Well, it _had_ worked. Time to launch into phase 2 of his little plot.

Without answering, he scooped her up around the middle and hauled her over his shoulder. She squealed, legs kicking without actually trying to injure him. The first step he took knocked some of the wind out of her protests, but not for long.

“Kabal!” she yelped. “I’m gonna flash someone!”

“You’ve got arms, don’t you?” he replied, smug.

He felt a very purposeful _whack_ to the middle of his back. “You’re a dick! And your shoulder is digging in!”

“I’ll put you down in a minute,” he promised, but adjusted her a little.

She froze as sea water splashed at his ankles, then wiggled even harder. He kept a firm arm around the bottom of her thighs the whole time, hardly even feeling the strain of her weight. Probably the reason she felt so secure moving around that much. A pang of pride went through him for that.

“Kabal, no! It’s gonna be cold!” she cried, but she was laughing a little.

“You think everything is cold.”

He waded deeper to be certain there would be enough cushioning for phase 3 of his master plan. Nix planted a palm against his lower back and pushed her front half up. Something must have caught her attention because she stopped flailing for a second.

“Hey, that lady is selling—” With his skin still wet, her hand slipped. “Oof!”

He jerked a little as her hand made accidental contact with his ass. “Copping a feel? You could at least buy me dinner first,” he laughed.

She huffed. “I’m making dinner later. And you deserve it, anyway!”

Kabal smiled. The promise of an actual, homecooked meal had him excited. Most of his diet consisted of protein bars, energy drinks, and takeout meals. He was a decent cook himself, but he rarely got to use or practice his skills.

“I deserve it, huh?” he asked.

They were finally deep enough.

“Yes!” she shouted, then realized they’d stopped walking. “Wait. Kabal, no—”

She screamed as her body flew in a perfect arch through the air, then cut off with a splash. Kabal was already laughing when she popped up, sputtering and folding her arms tight to her body. Her hair was soaked and sticking to her face and neck and shoulders.

“That’s fucking _cold_ ,” she shouted, “and I got water up my nose!”

“You’ll adjust,” he assured her, sidling closer.

She eyed him mutinously, took a tiny step back. Probably an indication that he was on her shit-list, but Kabal had always had a habit of pushing his luck.

“Aw, don’t be mad,” he chuckled. “I can keep you warm.”

She snorted derisively, but the corners of her mouth curled up anyway. “You can keep your hands to yourself, asshole. I’m not falling for it again.”

“It wouldn’t be as funny a second time,” he reasoned. She didn’t look convinced. He managed to inch within arm’s reach and pushed some of the hair out of her face, hoping she’d accept that as a nonverbal truce.

Nix narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think that would stop you.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong, but he’d already aggravated her enough for the moment. He put his hands up in surrender and she hmphed, but stepped closer anyway. It was only then that he noticed she was shivering a little. Not hard, but enough. Shit, she wasn’t kidding about the temperature.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” he said.

They strolled back to their little beach spot together. Nix stretched out on her towel again to dry in the sunlight while Kabal tried not to stare. She looked like a model or something, with droplets of water reflecting the sunlight as they slid down her body. Even her scar looked like some sort of artsy tattoo as she settled on her stomach with a sigh.

Probably best to stop staring before he drew her attention again. She had warned him that it drew her attention when people focused on her. In the spirit of not embarrassing himself, Kabal planted his in the sand beside her and faced the ocean, chugging a bottle of water.

“Oh!” she said and poked his shoulder to get his attention. As if she didn’t already have it the minute she opened her mouth. “I saw a lady selling succulents while you were trying to drown me. Can we check it out?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Succulents?”

“Yeah,” she replied, “they’re like cacti but friendlier.”

Ah, plants. He had no idea why she wanted to look at plants, but she seemed excited. Who was he to say no?

“Yeah, we can go,” he said. “When?”

Approximately two seconds later, Nix was chatting with the vendor of the plant stall, a woman with blond hair and a long skirt. She wasn’t just selling succulents it seemed— Kabal recognized a section with spiky little cacti, and another spindly plant that kinda looked like moss. There were some leafy ones too, but Kabal had no fucking clue what any of them were. He poked around while the ladies talked; literally in the case of the cacti.

Sooner than he expected, Nix all but bounced up to him with a succulent in her hand. The stalks (leaves? Kabal didn’t understand the anatomy) were flat and purplish, pointed at the tips. It was housed in a little ceramic pot made to look like a tiny green dragon.

“Look at how cute it is!” she chirped, beaming.

Yeah, it wasn’t just the succulent. “That’s what you want?”

Her smile turned sheepish. “Well, I want them all… but I’m happy with this one.”

He nodded and stepped away from the shelf of cacti, ready to pay for her plant and head back to the beach. Nix poked him in the shoulder again before they could get far, peering up at him curiously.

“Are you going to get one?” she asked.

He laughed. “You think I can keep a plant alive?”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “They’re easier than you think! You just stick them in a sunny window and water them, like, once a week or so.”

Kabal was about to gently decline again, when he spotted something red over her shoulder. It was a small, traditionally shaped pot. Painted over the scarlet was a perfect white circle and a yellow lightning bolt. He didn’t care what was growing in it. Noticing his distraction, Nix followed his line of sight.

“That Flash one?” she asked, grinning. “There’s a Pancake Plant in it.”

“Yeah…” he answered slowly, “you’ll show me how to take care of it, right?”

“Sure! Go grab it,” she told him.

He retrieved the pot with more excitement than he expected to have over vegetation and turned to pay. Nix was already signing her name on the receipt and grinning at him like that smug knife cat meme. Kabal stared at her, not sure if he was salty or impressed, but definitely shocked.

“I know the bikini cost more, but I wanted to do something nice for you,” she explained. “Also, you got got!”

He shot her a flat look. “I’m going to throw you in the water again.”

“No!”

***

Dinner was… so good. Great, even. Not just because the food was delicious and cooked to perfection and he ate three helpings. He got to help Nix in the kitchen, because she needed the extra set of hands, and that was better than the food itself.

They spent that entire time either harassing each other or joking around. She peered over his shoulder while he cut vegetables, mouth parted in awe at his knife skills. Kabal made a game out of stealing bites to “taste test” while she swatted at his hand. Nix stole his drink while he wasn’t looking but explained how to take care of his new plant while the food cooked.

He finally got kicked to the other side of the kitchen island when he flipped a very large kitchen knife in the air and caught it expertly by the handle. No one was in any danger, but Nix screamed and shooed him out with more swear words than he expected her to know.

Then they’d finished eating, they cleaned up together and there may or may not have been a small but intense soap war.

There was about an hour left until Kabal had to leave for work and he wasn’t looking forward to it. He had already received a text from Kano with some ominous, yet incomprehensible words that he roughly translated to “you’re fucked when you get here.” Years of working with that idiot and he still wasn’t sure if Kano made up half the shit he said or just spoke thick Aussie slang.

Nix was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table. Two textbooks, her laptop, and a notebook were spread out across its surface and her lap. On the computer screen, there was a tab for her school-email, the assignment calendar, a PowerPoint, two PDFs with long-ass titles written by authors with a lot of letters after their names, and a google search decoding scientific jargon at intervals.

Kabal had taken one look at phrases like “phospholipid bilayer” and “mitochondrial endosymbiosis,” and promptly sat down to play videogames. Nix didn’t seem too pleased about what she was reading either, but she was writing notes in rapid half-cursive anyway. He assumed that meant she knew what was happening.

“You’re sure it’s not bothering you?” he asked as she glanced up at the TV for the fifth time.

It was just a fighting game, after all. He was playing on arcade mode and he didn’t need the sound for that. Nix was studying, and it seemed like whatever she was learning was… intense. Bad enough she’d been dragged away from school because someone wanted her dead. Kabal owed it to her to let her focus.

“It’s fine,” she promised. There was a pause, he glanced at her as she squinted at the TV. “That anatomy… is actually pretty accurate. The physics are BS but…”

He snorted. “You’re analyzing the accuracy of a game with Johnny Cage as one of the main characters.”

She shot him an amused look over her shoulder. “What’s wrong with Johnny Cage?”

He curled his lip. Probably a little much for him to admit that he’d fought the self-impressed celebrity one more than one occasion. That would require a lot more explanation than he was prepared to give at that moment.

“Ninja Mime is bullshit,” he declared.

Nix hummed. “I liked the first two movies,” she said, “and that one where they retconned the plot wasn’t bad.”

He sighed dramatically. “Sorry, cupcake, but I’m gonna have to kick you out now. It was fun while it lasted.”

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the screen just as dripping red letters exclaimed MORTALITY in big capitals. Kabal smirked at his victory and leaned back in the armchair.

“What game is this, anyway?” she asked.

“Fatal Kombat,” he replied. “With a K.”

“Why the K?”

He shrugged. She hummed and turned back to her notes. Switched between two screens, googled a term Kabal couldn’t even pronounce, then flipped a textbook page and went, “Ohhhh.” Kabal checked the time, groaned, and stood to get ready for work.

When he returned to the living room, Nix glanced up and made that face he was quickly coming to realize meant she liked what she saw. Her pen stalled on a notebook page, a spot of black ink growing with each second that she stared.

“Your notes,” he reminded her.

She cursed and dropped it to the table before turning back to him. “Are you heading out now?”

He nodded and scanned his buzzing phone. A text from Erron with one of his cowboy-isms— “Plowing a little too close to the cotton, amigo.” Easier to translate than Kano’s message, and it confirmed his suspicions. Kano knew, and he wasn’t happy about it.

So much for easing into the news.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Nix asked.

No. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

She frowned. Right, psychic powers. Lying to spare her feelings probably wasn’t the way to go.

“I’ll figure something out,” he amended, which was true. Kabal had been in tougher situations and gotten out unscathed. Kano throwing a bitch-fit over one hit (even a big one) was nothing he couldn’t handle.

“Okay,” she said and stood. One of her hips popped and she winced. He arched an eyebrow.

“You should sit in the chair. I don’t know why you weren’t there in the first place,” he said.

She scrunched up her nose. “If you don’t mind me moving it so I can reach my stuff.”

He rolled his eyes as he pulled his gloves on. “I don’t.”

Nix sauntered to him and tilted her head to the side, eyes wide as she stared at the hook-swords strapped to his back.

“You can just… walk around with those?” she asked.

He smirked. “Who’s going to stop me?”

She blinked. “That is… a very good point.” And then before he could make another snappy remark, she circled her arms around his neck. Kabal’s arms curled around her waist before he’d fully processed what was happening. A hug. She was… hugging him. Huh. He squeezed back gently before she pulled away, face flushed.

“Be safe,” she said quickly.

He could still feel every place they’d pressed together. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and… well, he had a few ideas. Not all of them were even R-rated.

But duty called.

“I will,” he promised. “Tomorrow I can start teaching you to kick ass.”

She smiled at him, a little worried but still warm. “I’m looking forward to it.”

***

The gigantic warehouse that Kano currently called home-base was already lit up by the time Kabal arrived. A section of it operated as one of the seediest nightclubs anyone would ever have the misfortune of stepping into. Another section hosted a fighting ring for any species that could put on an entertaining show, including humans.

The source of the Black Dragon’s real money was centered towards the back and sublevel of the warehouse. The underground floor housed weapons and drugs and the means by which the organization hid them for transport— faux baby supplies, furniture, electronics. The back rooms were for “business,” deals or executions depending on the sale’s pitch and Kano’s mood.

The warehouse was shaking with the heavy base thundering in its front section, where the dancefloor was already packed with drunk, gyrating bodies. As Kabal hopped off his motorcycle, he sent a quick text to Nix letting her know he’d arrived and contact her again if and when he could.

Kabal entered through the “employee” entrance, where Erron was already waiting for him. They weren’t exactly friends, because no one in the Black Dragon was friends, and it only got worse the higher up the totem pole you got. But Erron and Kabal had a sort of companionable understanding from dealing with Kano day after day.

Meeting him at the door was unusual, but Kabal had never failed (and purposefully, at that) to finish a hit. Missions got botched all the time between SF and Kano’s stupidity, but bounties were easy. Erron was there more for entertainment than moral support. He wanted to witness whatever was about to happen

“What the hell were you thinking?” Erron asked.

“I was thinking I forgot to grab eggs at the store,” Kabal replied dryly. “Where is he?”

“Upstairs,” Erron replied, “but he ain’t happy.”

Kabal snorted. “You don’t fucking say.”

Kano generally came in one of two modes. He was either a smug, overconfident buffoon or a raging asshole. In either case, he was usually some level of drunk and always a dick. There was a rare third side of Kano that usually made an appearance right before he did something that even Kabal thought was cold.

Luckily, Kano was only just easing into the second option when Kabal arrived with Erron in tow. He must have gotten laid earlier.

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” he drawled.

During the twenty-minute drive, Kabal had formulated a tentative plan. He hadn’t had time to run it by Nix, but it was the best option to keep the Black Dragon and Kano himself from trying to finish the job. She said she trusted him, so he was going to make an executive decision and deal with the fallout later.

Using his best nonchalant tone, he put his hands up. “I know, I know. Just hear me out. You know I wouldn’t have given up a job like that for no reason.”

Kano glared as he rounded his littered and pockmarked desk.

“I know you wouldn’t,” he said, the undercurrent of threat growing with each word, “because that was a big fucking job. And if the client lets slip that one of my best guys couldn’t waste a fucking grad student for _four times_ the usual fee, that would be very bad for business.”

He stopped right in front of Kabal, arms at his sides and shoulders tense. “And you know how I feel about business,” he finished. “So tell me why the hell she’s still breathing.”

Kabal put on an easy, close-lipped smile. “Because she’ll make us more money alive than dead.”

Kano’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Erron shifted behind Kabal’s shoulder. The promise of money was the best way to convince Kano that anything was worth doing. The only way, really, since Kabal didn’t have tits.

“Enough to make up for the money we’d lose?” Kano asked, dubious.

“Even more if we’re smart about it.”

He narrowed his eyes. “And how’s that?”

Kabal shrugged. “She’s a psychic. I’ve seen it for myself. She’s not just reading body language or micro-expressions. Think about it— that could be real useful for business.”

Considering that Kano himself was a regular on the Outworld roster for Mortal Kombat tournaments, it wasn’t such a hefty claim to make. He’d seen his fair share of crazy magic shit.

“She here to give us a demonstration?” Kano asked.

Yeah, because he was fucking idiot. As if Kabal hadn’t seen him double-cross clients and even their own men at the drop of a pin.

“Of course not. I didn’t want you to shoot her the minute we walked in the door.” Kabal crossed his arms. “ _I’ll_ be her handler, and we can work out a time for a demonstration.”

Kano snorted. “Oh, I’m sure you’d like to handle ‘er, wouldn’t ya?” he scoffed, shaking his head.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Kabal demanded.

“Means this is all bloody convenient, innit? Some girl flashes her tits and bats her eyes and suddenly she’s got psychic powers,” Kano observed. “And you’re all set to be her knight in shining armor.”

Kabal narrowed his eyes, clenched his jaw. He didn’t expect to get quite as pissed as he did when Kano talked about Nix like that, but then he’d never stopped being surprised by his reactions to her. He had to keep his cool, though. Decking the boss now wouldn’t do anyone any favors.

“Don’t be a prick about this,” he hissed, shoving Kano back. “I just found us a human lie detector. You really wanna pass that up?”

Kano’s unimpressed expression didn’t change, but he was considering it. Kabal’s rank in the Black Dragon gave him some measure of credit, especially since he was less prone to dick-driven whims than Kano himself.

“You wanna be her hero? Fine,” Kano said at last, “But you’re gonna prove to me that you can play watchdog.”

Kabal arched an eyebrow in challenge. “What did you have in mind?”

Kano grinned unpleasantly. “A good ol’ fashioned row. You win, and we’ll work out a deal. I win, and I put a bullet in her head meself— and collect the money.”

Kabal didn’t hesitate. If he did, that would be to admit there was a possibility of losing, and there wasn’t. Plus, he couldn’t let Kano know that he cared about Nix as anything more than a business opportunity. Pretending to gamble with her life was the smart call. Kano wouldn’t buy it otherwise.

Kabal smirked. “You’re on.”

Erron chuckled from the darkened corner he’d parked himself in. “This should be interestin’.”

***

They had a sparring ring, more or less for this specific purpose. After all, why deny the peons a chance to gamble over which boss would win? Keep money flowing, even if it was within their own organization.

The “ring” was littered with empty bottles and cans piled on the dirt-packed ground. Kabal entered after Kano, not trusting him at his back even with his armor and swords. There would be no referee. They didn’t need one when the means for disqualification were tap-out, unconscious, or dead. And knowing Kano, that first one wouldn’t even be an option.

Kabal sidled to one side of the arena, rolling his neck to loosen up. Kano looked way too smug on the other side. No doubt he had some nasty underhanded trick up his metaphorical sleeve, payback for pissing him off and costing them a well-paying client. His grudges had a habit of rearing up at the worst possible time— usually in the form of a knife.

“Three rounds?” Kano called.

Kabal shrugged. “If you can make it that long.”

They settled into their fighting stances, sizing each other up. Despite his seeming indifference, Kabal could tell that Kano would rather win. Not just for pride’s sake, but because bringing on a psychic would add an extra complication that he was too lazy to want to deal with. Kabal wasn’t about to let that happen.

They’d sparred plenty of times before, with mixed results. After all, kicking the shit out of each other was the best way to settle any dispute in the Black Dragon.

Erron’s voice came over the shoddy speaker system, cutting through the obnoxious club music. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get at it!”

Kabal threw the first punch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Kano and Kabal fight; Nix gets lessons in ass-kicking.
> 
> My tumblr is charliemwrites if you have any questions, requests, or just to chat.


	6. Caught in the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kabal and Kano throw down. Nix plays nurse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I've been moving into a new apartment, so I haven't had time or energy to write or even post.

Kabal surged forward, aiming a shot directly at Kano’s face. The “bad” side, where his prosthetic eye was installed. He didn’t expect it to land, and it didn’t. The shot was more about figuring out just how much damage Kano wanted him to take before he would (grudgingly) accept losing.

Kano blocked the punch, tried to grab at his arm. Kabal jerked back from what he was sure would have been a broken bone. Kano’s other arm followed, caught Kabal in the ribs hard enough to smart even through the armor. He retaliated with an elbow that cracked Kano in the chin, stunned him enough that Kabal could plant his boot square in the chest to knock him away.

When Kano grinned, it was more a bearing of teeth as he came at Kabal with a heavy set of punches. A lucky shot caught him across the jaw, threw him off just enough that Kano’s heel came down hard on his shoulder. Kabal buckled under it, trying to move with the momentum. He didn’t have time to recover, to regain his feet, before Kano’s fist connected with his cheek.

He caught himself from hitting the ground (barely) and managed a hit to the soft spot beneath Kano’s ribs. He grunted, flinched, gave Kabal the split second he needed to stand and drive his elbow into the back of Kano’s neck. When he stumbled forward, Kabal put some distance between them. He shook off the pain radiating slow and dull where he’d already been hit.

Kano spun around, spit a mouthful of bloody saliva on the ground before raising his guard again. There was a beat of tense silence as they each revised their strategies, and then Kabal sped towards him. Kano expected it, leg snapping up for a kick aimed at Kabal’s head. A silver glint caught his eye, made him put extra space between them when he veered to the side at the last second.

He skidded to a stop, spun to face Kano. Pain seared a path across Kabal’s cheek. He grunted, shoved Kano’s leg away and kicked him back a couple feet. There was no time to figure out what had cut him, no time to do anything but dodge the knife Kano procured, slashing wildly. Kabal jerked back, reached for one of his own knives. Kano’s leg shot out and knocked him onto his back just as he pulled it.

A blur of movement and the prick of instinct was his only warning. Kabal rolled to the side, saw the wicked blade that sank into the ground where his throat had just been. There was a second that Kano’s foot was stuck and Kabal acted while he had the chance.

He pushed his arm up under himself, swiveled and swept his leg low, then high. The first kick dropped Kano onto one knee; the second bounced off his head. The crack of Kabal’s shin-guard hitting the back of Kano’s skull reverberated throughout his body. Kano grunted and swore, disoriented.

Kabal scrambled to his feet to regroup, wiped at his stinging cheek. The back of his hand came away bloody, but that was no surprise. Kano staggered to his feet and Kabal adjusted his grip on the knife. Apparently, they were done playing nice. Fine by him.

“Those new?” he called, nodding to Kano’s boots.

“You like ‘em?” Kano asked. Blades in his shoes. Why did Kabal feel like he’d waited for this fight to test them out?

Kabal shrugged. “Not really.”

Kano grinned. His teeth were bloody. “Good.”

He had to be hurting after that last blow. Kabal knew from experience that those weren’t something to just shake off. Even Kano’s thick head couldn’t protect him from metal plating. Time to finish it, while his reactions were still slow and clumsy.

The world blurred around him as he rushed Kano with his ability. The knife sliced through his thigh as Kabal passed, weakening his stance. Kabal reached the back wall, turned and pushed off with another burst of speed. He slammed into Kano’s back. They hit the ground hard.

Kabal coiled an arm around Kano’s neck, forearm pressed against his throat. The knife buried through his armor, hitting home in the soft tissue just beneath the ribs, where Kabal’s fist had hit earlier. Not fatal, but painful. With his hand free, Kabal could lock his arm in place and push Kano’s head forward. Kano cursed, scrabbled for a weapon or a handhold to get free. Kabal shifted his leg, jolted the knife still stuck in Kano’s side.

“Just tap out, dammit,” Kabal hissed between gritted teeth.

There was another, long moment of struggle, and then a palm hit Kabal’s leg one, two, three times. Kabal relaxed his hold, shoved Kano off and forced himself to his feet.

“And that’s the rodeo,” Erron’s voice came over the speaker. “Kabal’s the winner.”

Kano climbed to his feet, face twisted in pain and anger as he ripped the knife from his side and threw it into the ground at Kabal’s feet. He pressed a hand to his bleeding side and glared.

“Bring her in for a demonstration tomorrow night,” he growled, spitting blood again. “We’ll talk terms then. Now get out of my sight.”

Their shoulders collided as Kano hobbled by him. “She better be legit, Kabal.”

Then he kept walking, probably with big plans to get wasted for the rest of the night. Kabal sighed in relief. That went… much better than he expected.

***

Kabal returned to the condo around 2:30 in the morning. It was early for him, but between the fight and having to stick around for a few hours of actual work, he was ready to crash. The lights were still on thankfully— he appreciated not having to stumble around in the dark. He dropped his hook-swords and most of his outer gear at the door. Damn, it was good to be home, where it was quiet and smelled like new carpet.

He rounded the corner and spotted Nix’s head resting on the cushioned arm of the chair. He crept closer, silent despite the aches and injuries that had him bumbling around a minute ago. She was curled up on the wide cushion, fast asleep. Her textbooks were closed and stacked on the table, but her laptop was open and playing the end credits to a superhero movie.

Before he could get too close, her eyelids fluttered open and she sat up a little.

“Kabal?” she mumbled.

“Yeah, I’m back.”

The sound of his voice seemed to wake her up a little more. She rubbed at her eyes, stretched out with a yawn and turned towards him with a sleepy hum. He knew the minute her gaze focused, because she gasped and jumped out of the armchair to hurry over.

“I thought you were going to be okay,” she said, scanning over his visible wounds.

He chuckled. “Trust me, this _is_ okay,” he replied.

She pressed her lips together, hands hovering in the air between them. The medics at the warehouse had given him basic care, but Kabal knew it hadn’t been the best. Most of the people Kano hired for medical had been kicked out of their field— for drug abuse, unethical conduct, some combination thereof.

From the pinch between her brows and the way her eyes narrowed, he figured she wanted to do her own little check-up. Kabal really didn’t feel like sitting through another exam, but it was better to take care of things while they were fresh. Besides, she looked too keyed up to settle in again right away. If he set her at ease then they could go to bed sooner.

(Never mind that they didn’t _have_ to sleep at the same time. They were two grown adults, and she was capable of climbing in whenever she felt like it. There was no reason he couldn’t go to sleep without her, except he knew that after one day he’d already miss her. That he wouldn’t rest easy until she’d slipped in after him and curled up against his side.)

“I guess you want to patch me up yourself?” he asked.

She blinked, seemed to shake herself out of it. She had that look she got when she didn’t want to overstep her bounds. “Well, I’d like to take a better look, at least.”

They relocated to the bathroom, where he kept his kit for the times when he could deal with injuries himself. Nix had him turn on all the lights and sit on the toilet lid while she scrubbed her hands in the sink. When she was finished, she stood between his knees, drying her hands with a towel.

“Let me see your cheek first,” she said.

Obediently, Kabal turned his head to the side, revealing the line of butterfly bandages holding the laceration together. She sucked her teeth and narrowed her eyes again. He could have sworn they even lit up a little.

“Who did this?” she demanded.

“Some guy that works for us,” he answered. “Why?”

She frowned. “This is unacceptable.” Her fingertips, cool from the water, prodded lightly around the wound. “This is— you need stitches.”

Kabal resisted the urge to groan or argue. He trusted Nix’s diagnosis. Of course he did, because Kano like to use his own ass as a hat.

He gestured at the kit. “There should be stuff for it in there.”

Nix’s mouth dropped open, eyes round as she shook her head. “That would hurt!” she protested. “Unless you have lidocaine stashed away somewhere.”

Making a mental note to get some from the warehouse, Kabal shrugged. “Don’t need it. I’ll be fine.” When she didn’t look convinced, he caught her wrist where it still had stalled by his face, caressing the tender skin on the inside with his thumb. “Nix, I won’t go to a hospital and I trust you. Just do it… please?”

There was a beat of silence. Her fingers twitched, and he could feel the tendons jump beneath his own. Then she sighed and turned on her heel. “I’m getting paper towels.”

Kabal arched his eyebrows, intrigued. Was it weird that he was kinda turned on? Not by the medical shit, but by how Nix was taking charge. There was something about the way she spoke and moved that changed when she focused. She got more confident, purposeful. It was a good look on her.

When she returned, she had a stack of paper towels in one hand and a stool in the other. She sat the latter where she’d been standing and turned back to the med-kit, rooting around the contents and then setting instruments out on one of the towels.

“Absolutely ridiculous,” she muttered to herself. “Didn’t even _clean_ it right.”

“Is it that bad?” he asked, incredulous.

She huffed. “I might be a little critical,” she admitted, flushing. “They still did a piss-poor job.”

He smiled a little as she sat in front of him, tugging on a pair of gloves that looked a bit too big for her. She inched closer as she readied a swab with antiseptic.

“So, I’m going to take off the butterflies, clean it out, and then suture you up,” she explained. “Then I can take a look at anything else that’s bothering you.”

The Black Dragon docs never told him what they were going to do beforehand. Kabal just sat still, answered the occasional question, and hoped they gave him anesthetic for the really nasty shit. The only warning he ever got was listening to them debate treatment with one another. Nix’s bedside manner was already a thousand times better.

“Peroxide is under the counter still,” he told her.

She snorted and nudged his chin to the side so she could have easy access to his cheek. Even through the gloves, her hands were warm and gentle. Kabal watched her from the corner of his eye, free to stare while she was concentrated elsewhere. The way she pressed her lips together and furrowed her brows was just so damn _cute._

She picked carefully at the butterfly bandages, peeled them off one by one and made an irate noise when a drop of blood began sliding down towards his chin.

“You’re not supposed to use peroxide or alcohol. Even watered down,” she told him eventually, mopping up the blood with one hand. The other was busy soaking a cotton swab with water. “In serious cases, you could even put yourself into shock.”

“So… what? Just water?” he asked.

“Bodies are really good at healing themselves,” she explained, “so clean water is usually just fine. I just have to make sure there’s no dirt or anything.”

It hurt less to have it cleaned with water, at any rate. It still stung like a motherfucker, but it didn’t burn like antiseptic did. They were silent for a few minutes as she patted at the open wound with the cotton swab, then set it aside to get the sutures.

“How did this happen anyway?” she asked. “What did it?”

“Kano with a knife in his boot,” he replied. Her hands stuttered. “Part of our, uh… negotiations.”

Which reminded him of just what he’d negotiated. Her services to the Black Dragon. Kabal was only dragging her deeper into his world, closer to violence and bloodshed that she wasn’t built for. In his defense, he hadn’t had much of an option. No time for backups or compromises or miraculous counters, but it still turned his stomach a little.

“Kabal?” Nix had frozen altogether, eyes worried as she searched his face. “What happened? What aren’t you telling me?”

He grimaced. Felt the wound tug and reopen a little more and decided he couldn’t. He was too tired for the argument that was sure to follow. Too tired to try to justify himself. Too tired for the guilt and regret he was sure he’d feel regardless of how he explained himself.

“Tomorrow,” he said.

She frowned a little. “But—”

“Tomorrow,” he repeated, firm. “I’ll explain everything tomorrow, but it’s nothing _bad_. Okay?”

There was a tense moment of silence, then she sighed again. “Okay.”

He relaxed, turned his face again so she could wipe up the blood that had dripped in the meantime.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. He didn’t like how strained she sounded. He thought of her ex, Matthew, and that bullshit he’d been spouting when Kabal had interrupted their “conversation.” Right, she’d been with an asshole. Kabal was an asshole too, but a different kind.

“No,” he said, gentling his voice. “It’s… I get it. I do. It’s just been a long night.”

She hummed. “I know. Thank you for doing all this for me.”

His mouth twitched in a smile. “You don’t have to keep saying it. This is more than enough.”

She shook her head, but in the interest of not arguing further, she just picked up the needle and angled his chin again.

“Try not to move while I stitch this up,” she murmured, “and tap my leg if it hurts too much.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” he promised.

She snorted softly and poked him in retaliation before refocusing. Kabal had to hand it to her, she was far better than any of the Black Dragon medics. Her hands were deft and sure, working quickly but gently. The sting and tug of the needle was familiar but bearable, and she didn’t draw it out in an attempt to make it easier for him.

“There were go,” she said finally. “Looks better already. Any other injuries you want me to look at?”

Kabal turned, froze when he realized how close their faces were. She blinked at him, a slow sweep of long lashes over violet eyes. Her tongue swept over her bottom lip and drew his gaze. It would take so little. All he had to do was tilt his head and…

No. No, they were both tired and on edge. It wasn’t the time for any of that. But he could still—

“My shoulder,” he said. “I’m gonna need your help getting my shirt off.”

She blinked again, then ditched her gloves in the garbage. “Sure.”

Together, they worked his shirt over his head and Nix pulled his arm forward at the elbow. She rested his forearm on her thigh and worked her fingers over his deltoid, prodding at the shoulder joint and tendons. There was already a big bruise forming from the impact of Kano’s boot heel.

“You have to tell me if something hurts,” she reminded him, with a small smile. “None of this stoic nonsense.”

He chuckled. “Right, sorry.”

The minute she found something that hurt, he yelped like she’d stabbed him. Her hands jerked back, eyes wide, an apology already on the tip of her tongue. Then she saw the shit-eating grin on his face and cursed, whacked him harm in his injured shoulder. He flinched (it did hurt, but not much) and rubbed at it dramatically.

“Ouch,” he complained. “I’m pretty sure this is malpractice.”

“Take it up with the complaints department,” she replied, and pointed at the trashcan by his leg.

He laughed, squeezed her hip since that was where his hand was resting. She scrunched her nose at him.

“Did that actually hurt, you big baby, or did you just want to startle me?” she asked.

He leaned forwards a little. “Did that actually scare you?”

“ _Startle,”_ she corrected, “and yes, obviously.”

Of course it had. Because her nerves weren’t built of steel, like his. Luckily, she didn’t even seem all that aggravated with him. Exasperated at worst.

“Well, I’m sorry, cupcake,” he offered, “but I did feel a little twinge.”

She huffed. “Okay. Tell me if it hurts again, but more reasonably this time.”

He let her manipulate his arm, telling her when appropriate if it hurt or was uncomfortable. After a couple minutes she set his arm down again.

“Looks like a mild sprain, but mostly a contusion,” she explained. “Ice it and don’t lay on it tonight. What else?”

The urge to have her look at every little ache and pain was strong. Too strong, in fact. He knew he just wanted her hands on him, checking him over with those light, considering touches. Kabal could imagine forming an addiction to that.

“Just bruises,” he assured her, ducking his head. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

She smiled at him brightly. “My pleasure.”

As she scooted back, Kabal stood. His body was already sore from sitting still on the toilet lid for so long. Probably for the better that he started moving.

“I’m gonna shower,” he told her, “and then we’re crashing.”

She glanced up from the medical supplies she was tidying. “I’ll get some ice packs ready. Remember not to get your stitches wet.”

When she vacated the bathroom, he went through all the motions of bathing, trying to stay conscious. The heat and the water were lulling him into a standing daze, only just aware enough to keep his cheek dry as Nix had instructed. Fuck, he really liked her

Nix was sitting on the edge of the bed when he exited, wearing nothing but his towel because he’d forgotten to grab clothes. He fumbled on a pair of boxers, not caring what she saw because he was too tired to make another trip to the bathroom just to yank on underwear.

If she saw anything, he wasn’t sure. By the time he turned around, Nix was fidgeting with a couple ice packs wrapped in paper towels. She pushed the covers back as he trudged to the bed and offered a sympathetic look.

“Lay down and get comfortable,” she directed, “and then we can put some ice packs on the sprains.”

Kabal was too tired by that point to even think about anything other than obeying. He climbed onto the mattress and settled on his back with a groan. Nix scooted closer on her knees, set one ice pack on his shoulder and then the other on his wrist, lying at his side.

“There you go,” she hummed. “That should help.”

“Thank you,” he murmured.

She smiled warmly and hopped down to turn the light out. Kabal managed to hold out until the mattress dipped beneath her weight again, and the sheets were tugged up over both of them. One of her hands found his forearm and settled there, warm and soft and oddly comforting. It was already lulling him to sleep. The heat of her body combating the chill of the ice, the scent of her filling his nose and lungs.

She murmured something. He thought it was maybe “thank you and good night” but he was already half asleep. Kabal was vaguely aware of light pressure against his uninjured cheek, and then the siren song of unconsciousness lulled him under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will have the promised self-defense training, and hopefully that update will come sooner this time!


	7. You Taste Just Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix finally gets to talk to her brother... and then has sex with Kabal. Whoops?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm finally back! I didn't plan on taking such a long break, but I've been moving and then it was my birthday. Sorry for the wait everyone, but this is a long chapter at least. It's like, 15 pages, I'm not even kidding.

Nix woke first the next morning.

She knew she was first, because she could sense the foggy edges of Kabal’s sleeping mind brushing hers. He hadn’t moved all night, except to curl an arm around her waist when she’d climbed in again at 4AM, after disposing of the ice packs. Nix had been too sleepy to bother with things like self-control and had snuggled up against him without hesitation.

She was laying on her side, one arm folded against her chest and the other hugging his (toned, hard) stomach. Her legs were wound around his again, her head pillowed on his chest. Not dissimilar to how she’d woken up the previous night. The biggest (and best) change was the weight and warmth of Kabal’s arm around her, his fingers tucked beneath the edge of her shirt.

It felt intimate and affectionate, the kind of thing she’d always wanted to wake up to. In the three years she’d dated Matthew, she’d never felt this comfortable with him. Even asleep, even before her psychic powers, waking up next to him had had her slithering out of bed as soon as possible.

She liked the way Kabal touched her, even casually. The way his fingers curved over her skin, fingertips pressing against her like he didn’t want to let her go. He was never careless, never just grabbed for her like it was his right, but also like he couldn’t get enough of her. And while she tried to respect his privacy, some things still filtered through.

Like the fact he wanted to kiss her last night. The thing was… she would have let him, and that made it so much harder to remind herself that what she was feeling wasn’t real.

Sure, Kabal liked her; that was genuine. But the intimacy she imagined between them? It was just that— her imagination. It was easy for Nix to feel overly close to people because of her powers, and with Kabal especially. Between his general personality, the murder-contract situation, and the fact that he knew and didn’t care about her abilities, it was no wonder that she had quickly moved past a simple infatuation.

Besides, it wasn’t going to last. It couldn’t. Kabal expected their arrangement to be about a week, and then what? He wouldn’t want to hang around her. They came from two different worlds. She was a high-strung med student who liked to be in bed at a reasonable time and had hobbies like knitting and plants. Why in the world would he want to hang around her for fun? Her parents alone were enough of a deterrent even if he hadn’t realized she had terrible luck.

Probably better if she got up and started her day, before her thoughts devolved any further. Too early to be depressed about her romantic failings.

Slowly and carefully, Nix extricated herself from Kabal. He was snoring softly, only shifted a little as she climbed off the mattress and padded for the kitchen. Barring catastrophe or loud crashes, he wasn’t going to get up for another hour at least. She could make herself a cup of coffee, get a little schoolwork done before he got up to unintentionally and thoroughly distract her.

The coffeemaker wasn’t too difficult to figure out, thankfully. Nix brewed herself a big cup, dumped her sweeteners of choice in, and wandered to the living room. There was a big sliding glass door in the far wall that led to a covered balcony. Tucking a textbook under her arm, she snuck out there and curled up on a cushioned bench that faced the ocean.

For a while, she sat and sipped her coffee, skimming the over-complicated wording with idle interest. She’d read the whole chapter the night before, but it usually took two or three readings before she’d memorized and comprehended enough for it to be useful. Glancing it over while she waited for the caffeine to kick in would be enough.

Her phone screen lit up next to her arm, Nathan’s name flashing across the screen. Wincing, she picked it up.

“Hey, Nate,” she answered, already apologetic. She’d meant to call him the previous night after Kabal had left, but then she’d gotten caught up with homework and assignments. He had every reason to be pissed at her.

“ _Hey_ , Fifi,” he replied haughtily. “Where the hell have you been? And don’t say with Katy, because I know you’re lying.”

She grimaced. “It’s a long story— and I don’t think you’d believe me even if I told you.”

She knew the face he made in response to that lame excuse, even if she couldn’t see him. Eyebrows arched; mouth pursed. Probably rolled his eyes. If he weren’t holding the phone to his ear, he’d even cross his arms.

And she knew what he was going to say before he said it, too: “Try me.”

She flattened her voice. “Someone took out a hit on me, but the guy they hired to kill me decided not to, so now I’m staying with him while we figure out what to do about it.”

There was a loud beat of silence on the other end. Then Nathan chuckled, but it sounded… complicated? Like he was both relieved and concerned. Nix sighed. Yeah, if he’d said the same thing to her, she probably would have reacted the same. Assumed that the pressure was getting to be too much and that he needed a mental health day or something.

“Well, I’m not going to believe you if you make shit up,” he reasoned.

“You know I hate sounding like dad,” she complained, “but I told you so.”

He snorted. “Who would want to kill you, Fifi?”

She groaned. That was the question that had been driving her crazy since she’d realized someone was trying to kill her. When she’d offered Matthew as an option to Kabal, he’d agreed it was possible, but didn’t seem to think it was likely for some reason. Which left… pretty much no one else she’d expect. It was more terrifying than having a bulleted list of suspects. She was getting twitchy about who she could and couldn’t trust.

“I don’t know,” she mused, “the mafia?”

He laughed again, clearly thinking it was a bit. “The _mafia?_ Which one?”

It was probably better that he didn’t believe her anyway. “Any of them!”

“What could _you_ have done to a mafia?” he scoffed.

She threw her free hand up even though he couldn’t see it. He’d know she did it, which was what mattered.

“It’s the mafia, Nate, do I need to do anything to them?”

“Usually, yeah. Also, they tend to have their own hitmen on standby.” When she made a little _tsk_ sound, he continued. “Speaking of ‘hitmen,’ are you really staying with some dude or was that horseshit too?”

Nix made a noncommittal noise, caught between the complications of the truth and the guilt of a neat lie. Nathan sighed into the speaker.

“Fifi, I can cover with you for dad,” he offered. “I just want to know if you’re safe.”

There was a weird note to his voice, something she caught only because they were twins, though she couldn’t identify what it was. Maybe it was just a weird connection or something. But then why did she feel so uneasy? Just because she was keeping things from Nate. That was all.

“I’m safe,” she assured him. “Safer than I was with Matthew, even.”

Nate made a disgusted sound. “Speaking of Captain Boat Shoes, his mom had brunch with ours this morning. So expect a call later today, and probably don’t mention this dude you’re shacking up with.”

She rolled her eyes. Yeah, because she’d planned on telling their mother of all people that she wanted to ride Kabal’s dick like a bike. “Thanks for the advice, dickhead.”

“Hey, who knows what you’re going to say to mom? You’ve been acting weird, you _My Little Pony_ reject,” Nate replied, a note of sincerity in his voice now, “ever since the incident, but especially recently. It’s not like you to go running off without telling anyone.”

There was that pang of guilt again, because by “anyone” he meant “me.” They’d told each other everything since they’d been kids, had always stood side by side against everything. Including and especially their parents. Stereotypical twins. They’d even gone to the same undergrad college together, but that had been when they’d started to grow apart. Then, their mother had set her up with Matthew and things had really changed.

After she’d been struck by lightning and gotten her extra perception, she hadn’t been able to tell him. Nix told herself it was because he wouldn’t believe her; how could anyone? But even knowing she could give a demonstration, knowing she could convince him because he was her twin… every time she tried, she just couldn’t get the words out. And the longer time went on, the more she felt she couldn’t tell him.

“I know,” she admitted, sighing, “and I really meant to call you sooner. It’s just been so crazy.”

“Yeah, all those people trying to kill you,” he chuckled, “on top of being a med student.”

Wishing she could flick him in the arm, she huffed. “Whatever, enough about me. How’s class going? Dad letting you do anything for the company yet?”

“Class is fine, and dad’s finally giving me access to the company accounts, so there’s that,” he sighed. “Still being a damn old man about it, though.”

“Ah, yeah, head’s up to avoid him if you can,” she advised. “I talked to him yesterday and he’s pissed at me for this whole thing, which means…”

“He’s pissed at me, too,” Nate finished with a groan.

“Sorry! Isn’t it great being my twin?”

He made the same noncommittal noise she had earlier.

“Alright, alright,” she laughed. “I know you have class in fifteen. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Be careful, Fifi.”

“Love you, Nate.”

She set her phone by her leg and sucked down a big mouthful of coffee. If Kabal couldn’t figure out the employer for the hit by the end of the week, they’d have to figure out some sort of compromise. Nix couldn’t be away from her classes that long and her story wouldn’t hold up. But those were thoughts for later.

Shaking her head, she went back to reading her textbook until the door slid open about half an hour later. She tilted her head back to smile at a sleepy-looking Kabal. The corners of his mouth quirked in response as he stumbled onto the cushion next to her.

“Morning, sunshine,” she hummed.

He grunted, leaned his head on her shoulder. Nix pretended that it didn’t make her stomach flutter and her heart melt a little. “Morning,” he answered, voice a husky rumble. “My shoulder is sore.”

“We can ice it again,” she replied, then offered him her mug. “Want a sip?”

He accepted, got a sip down before he made a disgusted noise. “Fuck, that’s sweet.”

“I thought you like sweets. You scarfed down that ice cream yesterday.”

She reclaimed her mug, her whole hand tingling when their fingers brushed.

“Coffee should be blacker than my soul,” he declared, except it came out as more of an exhausted groan.

“Then it would be nothing but cream,” she teased. And yes, flirting was bad for her heart, but she liked that he blushed just a little anyway.

“You know I’ve done some bad shit,” he reminded. “I’m not a good guy.”

Yeah, she hadn’t forgotten that little tidbit. How could she? Nix wondered, if he was a mercenary in the same area where she was a practicing doctor, how many people coming through the ER would be because of him? Or would they bypass the ICU entirely for the morgue?

Nix had never had a thing for “bad boys,” even before her powers. The guys on TV who smoked cigarettes and wore leather jackets, who got into fist fights. Nix had never been attracted to them or their weird emotional conflicts. That whole “you’re too good for me, but I can’t stay away so I’m going to send mixed signals” thing was just ridiculous. Too dramatic for her, and too self-centered.

If those guys had been like Kabal, though…

Kabal, who had badass jackets and a tattoo on his arm and a motorcycle that he drove way too fast. He killed people for a living and didn’t seem bothered by it, except when it was her. Which was definitely a thing she should take moral issue with. But among everything else, she hadn’t been able to really debate the moral ambiguities of liking mercenary so much.

And she wasn’t about to at 11:16 in the morning, either.

“Want some breakfast?” she asked. “I could make pancakes.”

He mumbled incoherently before nodding. “Pancakes sound great.”

She hummed and tapped the back of his hand. “Let’s go to the kitchen, then. You can make yourself a cup of coffee.”

They relocated, and Nix began mixing the batter while Kabal loomed over the coffeemaker like being intimidating would make it brew faster. While the first batch was cooking, she sidled over to his side. He eyed her as he drank his coffee, the corner of his mouth ticking up.

“Something you needed, princess?”

She bit the inside of her cheek as her heart fluttered. She should not be so flattered by that damn nickname. “Can I see your cheek?”

He turned and slouched back against the counter so she could get a good look. Nix leaned towards him, guided his face to the side as she checked his stitches. They didn’t look red or inflamed, and no pulling. She touched the edges gently, hummed in satisfaction to find they weren’t hot.

“Looks good,” she reported. “How do they feel?”

“A little itchy, but that’s normal for me,” he answered.

Nix nodded, but she was distracted staring at the line of his jaw, the dark shadow of stubble that dusted it. Fuck, he was hot. It just wasn’t fair.

“Your pancakes, sweetie,” he said.

 “Oh no!” she gasped and rushed to the stove.

Kabal chuckled as she worriedly flipped them over, then sighed in relief when they were a nice golden brown.

“So, what’s happening today?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Well, I got some shit to tell you over breakfast,” he began, “and then you can decide what happens afterwards.”

She shot him a look over her shoulder. He was staring into his coffee cup like he was calculating the success of drowning himself with it.

“Is this that thing I asked about last night?”

He grimaced. “Yeah.”

She nodded and turned back to the stove. Nervous wasn’t the right word for it, but Kabal certainly didn’t feel confident about whatever he had to tell her. That was unusual for him. It was one of her favorite qualities about him and his mind. Whatever it was, it could wait a little longer. “Grab a plate, please? This first batch is done.”

A plate was promptly set by her elbow and she flashed him a smile. “Thank you!”

They fell into comfortable silence while she finished making their pancakes. In the meantime, Kabal brewed her another cup of coffee (just the way she liked it, too) and set the table with syrup and butter. When they finally sat at the table, she giggled as he stuffed his face with his hands like he’d been starved. Nix cut into hers with a fork and knife and more restraint.

“These are really fucking good,” he mumbled around the food.

“I’m glad you like them,” she replied, smiling. Time to rip the bandage off.  “Now will you tell me what happened last night?”

He sighed and nodded, eyes on his plate. “I talked to Kano. Between the money and the lost client, he was pretty pissed that I didn’t follow through.”

She winced but nodded. “Right. You said he’d be like that.”

“The good news is that it wasn’t as bad as I expected. He’s willing to negotiate a deal for you,” Kabal continued. She pressed her lips together and braced for the other shoe to drop. “The bad news is what I had to offer to get him to do it.”

Her blood turned to ice; stomach knotting up painfully tight. Nix forced herself to swallow and breathe.

“W-what did you offer him?” she asked.

“I told him that you were a psychic,” he explained, “and that you’d work part-time for the Black Dragon.”

The force of her conflicting relief and dread made her dizzy. On one hand, she was so happy that it wasn’t the worst-case scenario her mind had jumped to when Kabal had used the word “offer,” which had been sex. That she’d have to prostitute herself to an organization of mercenaries so that she wouldn’t be killed. In hindsight, she felt a little bad for thinking Kabal would do that to her, but she hadn’t been able to help her automatic fear.

On the other hand, she was still terrified. Working… for the Black Dragon. Her.

There was a tap on the back of her hand. A bolt of concern and the desire to reassure coursed through her. Nix blinked and tried to focus on Kabal, still feeling a little faint.

“I-I can’t kill people,” she blurted. “Kabal, I can barely eat meat with bones in it.”

He shook his head and curled his fingers around hers. “You’re not killing anyone.”

“I’m not?”

“Hell no,” he replied, laughing a little. “You’ll be more of a personal lie detector. Maybe do a couple interrogations.”

“Oh, good,” she sighed, shoulders dropping from around her ears. “Okay, I… I think I can handle that.”

He nodded, looking a little relieved himself. “We’ll work out the details tonight,” he said, “when you give Kano a demonstration.”

She froze again. “Demonstration? Tonight?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He ran his thumb over the back of her hand. “I’ll be with you the whole time. It won’t be anything you don’t already do.”

Well, that was… comforting. Except for the part where she would waltz into a den of hitmen who could get a lot of money with one lucky bullet. And that she was meeting Kabal’s boss, who had given him all those lovely injuries she’d treated the night before. Who, if she was remembering right, had _knives_ in his _shoes_ and was probably looking for any excuse to kill her.

Nope, nothing to worry about.

“Nix?” Kabal met her eyes, squeezed her palm. She knew he meant for her to feel it when a wave of conviction washed over her. “This is going to work. Everything’s going to go fine. Honestly, I think you might be a good luck charm. Things never go this smoothly for me.”

She groaned. “Well, now you jinxed it.”

“Un-jinx it, then,” he replied with a wink.

She rolled her eyes but was unable to stop her grin. “Just eat your pancakes.”

***

Whenever Nix was learning something new, she asked about a million questions. Good habit formed from knowing that she was going pre-med since high school. She also tended to babble when nervous. Naturally, learning self-defense for the first time in her life from a _mercenary_ compounded those two idiosyncrasies, and well…

She expected that Kabal would start regretting his choices any second.

“How should I do my hair?” she asked, sweeping it up with a spare tie she’d unearthed from the bottom of her backpack.

“Up,” he replied, shrugging. “So I don’t accidentally snag it.”

She scrunched up her face. “Do bad guys care that my hair looks nice today?”

He snorted. “No.”

Made sense. Nix pulled her hair back into a ponytail and followed Kabal onto the mats in the center of the room. He’d turned the condo’s guestroom into a private gym/armory. His sword-thingies and several guns were mounted on the wall opposite the door, but they weren’t playing around with any of those, thankfully. He’d had soft paneling installed in the floor for exactly what they were doing, and she was grateful she wouldn’t have an audience.

“So is this like martial arts? Do I call you sensei? Master? Coach who I project my abandonment issues onto?” she asked.

“Just Kabal is fine,” he replied, shaking his head. It looked like he was trying to decide whether he should laugh or not.

“You’re not going to hurt me, right?” she asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “You’re not going to kick my ass as a ‘lesson’ or something, and tell me pain is weakness leaving the body?”

He grinned a little and set his hands on her shoulders, stilling her. “Nope.”

“Okay, good, because I am very breakable, and the last thing I need is something cracked or sprained or, well—”

“Nix.” She blinked at him. “You’re going to be fine. Trust me.”

“I do trust you,” she admitted. He started rearranging her limbs. Scooting her legs apart with his feet, twisting her torso, nudging her arms up. She continued talking. “But I also know that this is what you do for a living, and maybe you’re not used to holding back so I’d just like to remind you that I should be treated like a six-year-old in an eighty-year-old body.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said dryly and stood in front of her again. “Now show me how you make a fist.”

She curled her fingers in, thumb on the outside because she could do _that_ at least. Every TV show, movie, and book in existence with a damsel-in-distress heroine had to be shown how to form a proper fist by their big, strong hero.

“Good, now can you throw a punch?” Kabal asked.

She made an exaggerated motion and he hummed, stopping the movement with her arm extended.

“Straighten out your wrist or you’ll break it. You want to hit with this part of your hand,” he explained, running a finger over the flat of her curled fingers, just beneath her knuckles. “And put your whole body into it.”

He spent the next half hour teaching her what that meant.

“Engage your core,” he instructed, and poked her in the stomach.

She doubled over like he’d punched her, giggling and stumbling back a step. Her stance was ruined, but she couldn’t help it. “Don’t poke me in the squish!”

He stared. “Your… your core,” was all he managed.

“My _squish_ ,” she insisted, “and quit pokin’ it.”

“You’re ticklish,” he said instead, like it was just occurring to him.

A pang of dread buried in her stomach as she sensed the lightbulb go off in his head. Oh god. Oh no. Things were about to go south real fast. Psychic powers or no, the paranoia of the ticklish would have told her exactly what he was planning.

She scowled. “Maybe.”

“ _Maybe?_ ” he scoffed, taking a step towards her.

The dangerous smirk on his face made her heart race, the predatory stance even more. He looked like he was about to pounce— and a quick dip into his thoughts told her that he was. She inched back, narrowed her eyes and tried to appear threatening.

“Kabal,” she warned, “don’t even think—”

She yelped and buckled, flailed for Kabal but it was too late. Her ass hit the mat and he followed her down, landing on his knees and his good arm above her. Their faces were only inches apart, their chests pressed together and the line of his stomach firm over hers. That knocked the wind out of her sails, but she pretended it was just the fall.

“Why did you throw yourself down?” he asked, laughing.

She flushed. “There was nowhere to run!”

He sat back on his heels with a grin. Nix told herself that she wasn’t disappointed. “Well, while we’re down here, we might as well do some more _hands-on_ training,” he mused with a suggestive eyebrow.

Nix’s heart and mind stuttered at the same time. “H-huh?”

“You’re kinda small, so it wouldn’t be hard for the average guy to knock you down,” he explained, as if his previous sentence hadn’t made her panties wet. “I’m going to teach you how to wreck his shit.”

And wasn’t that a fun thought. Distracting from her previous one anyway. Nix devoted herself to the next half-hour of lessons. Not to say that she hadn’t been trying before, but she put real and concentrated effort into learning this particular set of moves. She even managed to master most of it before fatigue and pent up arousal caught up with her.

They were just about to finish up when he asked, “Do you want to see the move I used to tap out Kano last night?”

“Tap out? Like UFC?” she asked.

He nodded. “Like UFC. C’mere and sit down.”

When she did as he instructed, Kabal snuggled up right behind her with his pelvis pressed to her ass. That wasn’t pleasant for long before he hooked his legs around her thighs and started to reach around her neck. The nervousness from before resurfaced all at once and she squeaked, patting at his leg.

“Why are you tapping? I haven’t even done anything!” he laughed.

“You didn’t warn me that we were starting,” she complained.

He huffed, and she could almost feel his grin against the back of her neck. “Alright, then we’re starting now.”

He repeated the motion, explaining along the way how he’d done it and how she would have to do it. His arm settled across her throat and she made a choked noise despite the lack of pressure, flailed around until he released her and leaned back on his hands. She half-turned to look at him, still trapped by his legs.

“Well, how am I supposed to save myself from that?” she demanded, frowning.

He sat up again, arms coming up around her. Nix prayed he couldn’t feel her heart pounding where her back leaned against his broad chest.

“I’ll show you.”

When she successfully slipped out of his hold (at half-speed and no strength) she smiled, arms up in celebration. “I’m free!”

The smirk he shot her was wicked. “Not for long!” And he lunged.

She screamed as her back hit the mat, a laugh bubbling out of her despite her racing pulse. Kabal grinned down at her, his hands on either side of her head and situated between her thighs again, but she was trying desperately to ignore that.

“Kabal!” she cried, smacking his arm. “The neighbors are going to call the cops!”

“Then quit screaming.” And before she could make a foolish innuendo about making her scream, he added, “Pop quiz! Do you remember what to do if someone is over you like this?”

She blanked. With all the distractions, her mind had completely filed away all the useful stuff for later.

“Uh…” She made an abortive punch at his face.

He caught her wrist and pressed it into the mat by her head, not hard but firmer than he had been so far. Nix’s breath caught. Kabal lowered his face a little closer. Electricity tingled down her arm and made her flush. Was it just her… or were his pupils dilated?

“Well, that didn’t work,” he observed, “try something else.”

She hummed, her mind racing and finding no traction. She scrambled for a response, hoping for something reasonable and maybe even correct.

“Uhh… hey baby,” she managed, and then made a kissy noise at him.

Kabal jerked back a little, shocked for a second before clearly trying not to laugh. “No, no kissing.”

“Can’t I just kill people with kindness?” she asked.

He finally chuckled and shook his head. “No. You have to kick ass the old-fashioned way.”

She groaned. He clearly wasn’t going to move until she displayed some sort of self-defense tactic that was effective. The only problem was that dredging up anything practical was near impossible with his body wedged between her thighs like— wait a second.

Nix locked her ankles around his waist and twisted, throwing his weight to the side. It might not have worked had she not apparently surprised him, and her knee dug right into a floating rib. She rolled with him, landed on top with a triumphant little smile. He still had a grip on one wrist, so she balanced herself with the other on his chest.

“Good?” she asked.

“Good,” he confirmed, looking proud. Warmth bloomed in her stomach. “From there you have control.”

He’d been saying words like “control” and “submit” throughout their lesson and she’d been holding back smartass comments the whole time.

“Shouldn’t we have made a safe-word first?” she teased.

Kabal arched an eyebrow. “I don’t know.” His voice was low. Her stomach flipped. She became very aware that she was straddling him. “You want one?”

She hummed. “I’m thinking ‘pineapple.’ Or maybe ‘mitochondria,’ because you’re the powerhouse of my cell, if you know what I mean.”

They both burst into uncontrollable laughter. Kabal threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut as his whole body shook with the force of it. It was the kind of laugh that came from deep in his chest and it hit her like a punch to the gut. She really liked his smile, his laugh, the way he dragged a hand down his face like that would wipe it away.

“That was probably the worst innuendo I’ve ever heard,” he wheezed.

She arched her eyebrows, smile spreading wide. “Then you need to stick around me longer, because that’s like 45% of what comes out of my mouth.”

His chuckling faded a little as he gazed up at her, a hand settling on the outside of her thigh. “I want to stick around you as long as you’ll put up with me.”

And the part that felt so good it hurt was that he meant it. Deeply. She could sense it coursing through her from that one point of contact where his palm touched her bare leg. For whatever reason, Kabal wanted to know her beyond the week she had to stay with him.

“Hey,” she said. Her heart felt like it was about to leap out of her chest. “I know that I’ve asked you for a lot, but can I ask for one more thing?”

He might have made a snarky remark, but the tone of her voice stopped him.

The thing about Nix’s powers was that while she could sometimes pick out thoughts, it could be difficult. People rarely thought in full, comprehensible sentences. Usually she just picked out one or two key words and extrapolated from their emotions.

Kabal only thought one word, but with so much conviction and absolutely no hesitation that it decided her:

 _Anything_.

“Will you kiss me?”

There was no uncertainty there, either. Kabal pushed himself up one arm, pressed their lips together in a tight, hot crush that immediately made her mouth part in a little gasp. He licked inside, coaxed her tongue to play as he laid back so that he could clutch at her hips and drag her closer. Nix balanced on one hand and worked the other beneath the bottom of his shirt, running her palm across the hard ridges of his abs.

A little noise of longing caught in her throat. She wanted to get her mouth on that body _stat_ — when she was finished kissing him, anyway. Which… probably wasn’t going to happen any time soon, honestly. Not when he was exploring her mouth so thoroughly, doing such wicked things that it made her head spin.

He sucked her tongue, made her nails rake down his side and he jerked. For a split second, Nix thought she’d hurt him. Then he yanked her down and back just a bit, wedging a very sizeable bulge against the apex of her legs and she mewled, twisting and wriggling against him for delicious friction.

Kabal cursed, fingers gripping hard enough to leave bruises. God, she hoped he did. She would bet anything that he was strong enough to, with the right motivation. The thought had her biting back a moan, grinding just a little harder to stimulate her clit. A searing tendril of lust curled through her pelvis, made her nip his bottom lip a littler sharper than she intended.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he growled. She shuddered, tugged at his shirt in silent question. Kabal peeled it off without hesitation, muscles flexing as he tossed is across the room.

Nix ran her hands along his shoulders hungrily, drinking in the sight of his bare abdomen and the scars that decorated it. At some point she’d ask how he got them, but her mind was elsewhere. There were more pressing matters, like his dick against her thigh.

Kabal dragged her down into another heated kiss, one rough hand sliding beneath her shirt and the other palming her ass. She arched her back, pressing into his grip and grinding just right to make her breath hitch. And if she was showing off a little? He wasn’t complaining.

When he broke the kiss, an embarrassing little noise of protest snuck out before she could stop herself. Kabal’s expression was smoldering.

“You wanna take this off?” he asked, tugging at the hem of her shirt.

There was a beat of hesitation, automatic nervousness, before she sat up and pulled her tank top over her head. In all honesty, her practical sports bra wasn’t exactly sexy, but Kabal reacted like it was. The low noise he made in his throat sent a pulse of liquid arousal through her body and she rolled her hips against his.

“Wait, wait,” he mumbled, catching her waist in a vice-like grip. Nix blinked down at him and tried to catch her breath. Resisted the urge to wiggle around just to test his strength. “Look, before I completely lose my mind here, tell me what you’re up for and I’ll make it happen.”

She stared at him, not because she didn’t understand what he was asking, but because her mind was working through a lot of conflicting tracks in response. Pleasant surprise, gratitude, awe, some emotion that felt deep and warm and made her chest ache that she definitely wasn’t going to name.

Nix knew it wasn’t fair to keep comparing Kabal to Matthew, but he was just so fucking _good_ to her, so much better than her ex… and they’d only known each other for a few days. That thought should have been what snapped her back to reality. Should have cooled the metaphorical jets and reminded her that she was a Good Merce Girl who didn’t have sex with mercenaries she hadn’t known more than a week.

But fuck that.

She trusted Kabal more than she trusted most people and she really, _really_ wanted him. Nix had played safe her whole life and hadn’t been any happier for it. Her chances of surviving a lightning strike were far lower than surviving heartbreak, and she’d already beat the odds of one. There was no good reason not to have sex with Kabal as far as she was concerned.

She just had to think of an answer that was a little more coherent than “fuck me into the mats right now.” Probably best to just be straightforward.

Easier said than done.

“Sex,” she blurted. The sound he made was something between shocked and disgruntled. Nix’s face burned as she squeezed her eyes shut. “I-I mean I want to have sex. With you. If… if you want to, that is.”

A gentle hand cupped her face, thumb caressing her cheek. Nix’s eyes fluttered open and locked with Kabal’s. His pupils were huge, nearly swallowed the irises whole, and his smile was all amusement and banked lust.

“Believe me, I want to,” he assured her, “but I’m not gonna push it. You change your mind, and we’ll stop, no questions asked. Got it?”

Nix swallowed and told herself that it was definitely _not_ the time to cry as she nodded. If she’d had any doubts before, they were gone. Kabal was good. Well, good in all the ways that mattered to her. She knew it like she knew her own name.

Which… she hopefully wouldn’t remember for much longer.

“Good,” he purred, and his smile turned suggestive. “Now, c’mere.”

She melted into him as he guided her face down again, their lips fitting together in a perfect, slick press. He worked his tongue into her mouth as his hands resumed wandering, squeezing her breasts through her bra and sneaking beneath her shorts and underwear to clutch at her bare ass.

Nix slid her mouth lower to kiss along his neck, remembered to use her teeth where he seemed most sensitive sensitive. It earned her the hottest sounds and feeling the strength that rippled through him when he jerked her down just a little closer. He let her explore with her mouth for a little while before taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilting her face back to his.

His hand drifted back to her chest, teasing through the fabric of her bra to make her whimper into his mouth. Little sparks of pleasure raced down her spine and pooled in her stomach, but it wasn’t nearly enough. She could only be so patient before she leaned back to wiggle out of her sports bra and flung it aside.

Kabal surged up against her, stomach flexing effortlessly under their combined weight to sit them up. Nix squeaked, arms circling his neck despite the steel band of his arm around her lower back. She moaned as he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her throat, sucked a mark into that spot right beneath her ear.

Her head lolled back to give him better access as he travelled down her neck, teeth and tongue and gentle suction that made her squirm in his lap. His tongue traced over her scar as it wound across her collarbone, then dipped down to her breasts. She bit her lip hard, swallowing the sounds that tried to escape as he latched onto a nipple. He kneaded her other breast with his free hand, pinched this side of painful to counterpoint the sweet pleasure of his mouth.

“You like that, hmm?” he asked, smirking. She mewled when he did it again, hips twitching helplessly. “You like it a little rough?”

“I-I don’t know,” she babbled, “but I like you.”

His laughter was more a puff of air against her sensitized skin. Nix shifted restlessly above him, hands grasping at his shoulders for something to ground herself. Her entire body felt like a livewire, anticipation and longing and pleasure making her thoughts hazy and sluggish.

“You’re way too sweet for the things I wanna do to you,” he chuckled. That sounded more like a promise than anything. Nix tried not to whine. It wasn’t fair. He’d talked about losing his mind a few minutes ago but she was the one who couldn’t think straight. She wanted him to be just as incoherent as she was.

Nix bit her lip, mustered up some courage, and met his eye. “Then let me do some things to you.”

Kabal’s eyes widened, mouth parting in surprise and naked lust. A flush bloomed across his cheeks and the tips of his ears as his hands went a little slack. Whatever she was expecting, it wasn’t that, but it somehow made her wet. Well, more wet, anyway.

She planted a hand against his chest and applied just enough pressure to make her desires known. Kabal sank back against the mats without protest and Nix followed him down… and then continued even further down. She mapped out the hard-cut lines of his abs with her mouth, scratched hot trails down his ribs and chest, catching on his nipples. One of his hands fumbled for her hair, eased the tie out of it so the curls fell free around her shoulders.

When she reached the waistband of his pants, he caught her arm and tugged her back up. She made a surprised noise as he yanked her into another heated kiss that felt far too short before he pulled away.

“Don’t believe in going first,” he admitted. “Sit on my face?”

It took her a couple tries to remember what words were. “Y-you’re serious?”

“Let me do this for you, princess.” She shivered, bit her lip hard again. “I wanna know what you taste like.”

Nix could only nod and follow his lead as he hooked his fingers in her shorts and dragged them, along with her underwear, down in one fell swoop. Naked, she swung her leg over his body so he could shimmy down. Getting back into position on her own was where she hesitated, inexperience making her shy and awkward where confidence had carried her before.

“C’mon,” he encouraged. His hands curled around her thighs, nudged them wide apart so he could settle between them on his back. She felt his breath, hot and wet against her aching pussy. “Now isn’t that a pretty sight,” he purred.

“Kabal,” she whimpered, “please.”

He gripped her hips and lowered her just those last few inches to his mouth. The first sweep of his tongue made her gasp, ragged and deep as pleasure ricocheted up through her pelvis. The second made her jerk, caught quick in his iron hold. The third made her buckle, catching herself on her arms before she pushed herself upright again.

His tongue worked in long, broad sweeps from her entrance to her clit, a deep satisfied noise rumbling through him. Pleasure burned up through her body from every slow lick and found escape through her mouth, in gasps and moans and high-pitched keens. Unsure what to do with her hands, she twisted one in her own hair and gripped his forearm with the other, nails biting into his skin.

She tried to sit still, to avoid hurting him or ruining the absolutely perfect rhythm he was building, but that only seemed to make him more determined to get her writhing on top of him. His tongue flicked upwards, circled her clit and stayed focused there, working in tight hypnotic patterns that made her body sing.

“Kabal,” she choked out, “please…”

She wasn’t sure what she was asking for, but his hand (the one she wasn’t gripping for dear life) vanished from her hip. She cried out when he slid a finger into her wet heat, curling and pumping at a steady pace as she shuddered and tried to breathe. Her mind was blank beyond the pleasure that electrified every inch of her body.

“Yes, fuck, oh my god,” she rambled, squeezing her eyes shut and panting.

Her hips twitched, silently asking for more. A second finger stretched her dripping entrance and heightened the sweet, hot pleasure that coursed through her like warm honey. His hand and wrist must have been cramping, but he adjusted just a little, and suddenly he was stroking that one perfect spot inside her. She shouted, thighs quivering as the pleasure built.

“I-I’m gonna come,” she warned.

His lips closed around her clit and applied gentle suction and Nix was gone. Ecstasy burned through her, set bright lights off behind her eyelids. She fell forward, barely managed to catch herself again while he let her ride out her orgasm on his tongue.

She was vaguely aware of Kabal moving, then his arm circled her waist and pulled her back against him. When she tilted her head back, his mouth slanted over hers, the taste of her still on his tongue. And the things he could do with that tongue…

“You alright?” he asked.

She hummed and twisted in his arms. “Stellar,” she sighed, “but I’d be better if you had your pants off.”

His eyebrows shot up, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Not done, yet?”

“With you?” she smiled back. “Definitely not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never fear, there's more smut coming up at the start of the next chapter. I just had to split it up because this one ended up being so long.


	8. Paradise in Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix and Kabal fuck. That's it. That's the chapter.
> 
> Oh, and she argues with her mom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I apparently can't stop writing smut in the middle of a scene or it takes a miracle to get me to finish it

Kissing Kabal was becoming her new favorite pastime. It was a whole-body experience with him. A mind-numbing, heart-stopping, breath-stealing  _ experience. _ She leaned into the solid wall of his abdomen, licked into his mouth and let her hands wander. The rigid line of his erection was poking her in the hip, twitched when her nails grazed the skin above his waistband.

“Pants. Off. Now.”

“Fuck, you got it, princess,” he mumbled, scrambling to kick the remainder of his clothes away.

She sat back, tongue sweeping across her lips as she got an eyeful of his dick, flushed and full against his toned stomach. Wiggling back a little, she settled on her knees, hand stalling at his chest but itching to slide lower.

“Would you mind if I…?” She arched her eyebrows.

He exhaled hard and leaned back on his elbows, eyes dark. “Fuck no, I wouldn’t mind— uh, that is if you don’t…”

She grinned. Maybe she wasn’t accustomed to receiving but she was very,  _ very  _ adept at giving. Specifically blow jobs.

“Just lay back, okay?” she purred, trailing her hand down to grip the base.

Without further delay, she licked a long, broad stripe up the underside of his cock and moaned. Kabal fell back with a  _ thump _ , fingers tangling in her hair as she took the head in her mouth, applying gentle suction as she swirled her tongue. He cursed as she took him deeper at an easy pace, breathing through her nose when his cockhead bumped the back of her throat.

“I don’t know how long I’m gonna last if you keep that up,” he groaned.

The corner of her mouth quirked before she bobbed her head, working what she couldn’t effortlessly take with her hand. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked a little harder, tongue working with what little room it had, humming when his fingers tightened and he choked on a noise.

Kabal wasn’t small by any means, but she relaxed her jaw and took him as deep as she could, suppressing her gag reflex to swallow around his length. His hips jerked and she pulled back to catch her breath with a small cough, hand stroking him automatically.

“Shit,” he gasped, “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

She smiled. “It’s alright. If you want to move, I can—”

His hand clamped around her arm and yanked her up into a kiss that made her shiver, going lightheaded as he manhandled her closer.

“I need to be inside you,” he panted. “Right now.”

“Fuck yes.”

He started to sit up, the electricity of his anticipation and arousal scrambling her thoughts. His hands settled on her hips and started to roll them over, but she straightened her spine, offering just enough resistance to make him pause.

“W-wait,” she kissed his jaw, then pushed herself up with one arm. “Your shoulder. You said it still hurts. Lemme be on top this time?”

His hands tightened, fingertips dimpling her skin as he swallowed. “Have at it, beautiful.”

Nix grinned, kissed him again she wriggled into a better position, grinding her slick pussy against his dick. He let his head thunk back against the mat, one hand leaving her waist to help her line up. She planted her hands on his broad chest for balance, felt his heart thrumming beneath her palm.

Eyes squeezed shut and lip pinched between her teeth, she sank down. A gasp burst from her as the head popped past her entrance, nails leaving crescents in his flesh. She made a grabby gesture, needing something to hold onto to ground herself. His finger’s tangled with hers, muscles jumping as she leaned into him to slide down a little further.

Her eyes cracked open, appreciating the way he flexed so easily to support her weight. His jaw was tense with the effort of holding still, keeping himself in check so she could take him at her own pace. It was both appreciated and really fucking hot.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She swallowed thickly and nodded, flexing her thighs to descend, her walls clenching with each hot inch that filled her up  _ so fucking good _ . It was a tight fit, but not uncomfortable as long as she went slow and stayed relaxed. His fingers had helped stretch her and she was plenty wet, but he wasn’t small by any means either. There was just no fucking way that she’d be patient enough for anything other than his dick.

He finally bottomed out, her hips seated flush on his. There was a beat of frozen silence, where neither of them moved or spoke or even breathed, her eyes wide and unfocused. The thumb of the hand that still gripped her hip rubbed soothing circles into the delicate skin, probably over one of his own fingerprints.

“Nix?” She blinked down at him, shivered at the gutted way he said her name. “Breathe, baby.”

She inhaled deeply, shifted a little and lost all that air in a rush when pleasure sparked down her spine. Her walls fluttered and Kabal’s stomach tightened as he grit his teeth. She did it again, flashed a grin as she rolled her hips and pleasure shot through them both.

Using her grip on him for leverage, she lifted up and sank down. Adjusted a little and did it again. And again. His hips twitched up just as she dropped down and she gasped, a helpless noise punching out of her as he hit every sweet, sensitized spot inside her.

“Did I hurt you?”

She whimpered and shook her head as she rose. “Do it again.”

Their pace was immediately frantic, Nix spreading her knees wide to take him as deep and hard as she could. His hips snapped up to meet her each time, his hand guiding her when her rhythm stuttered at the ecstasy that echoed from him and heightened her own.

“It’s like you were made to bounce on my cock,” he groaned.

She whimpered, bore down as his voice filtered through the fog in her mind. Between the husky tone and the words themselves…

That shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, but fuck if it didn’t make her heart race and her body sing. She felt the switch in Kabal’s mind as he recognized her reaction, then the answering arousal that rocketed through him.

“How about next time I bend you over the mattress?” he growled. She mewled, yielded to his hands pulling her down with more force. “Or maybe spread you out on your hands and knees, take you nice slow from behind.”

She made an unintelligible noise. It might have been his name. It might have been begging. It didn’t matter when her whole body was lit up with overwhelming pleasure. Suddenly Kabal was moving, sitting up and balancing her all without interrupting their delicious rhythm. The change in angle hit something new, something deeper, something fucking perfect and her clit was grinding against the hard wall of his stomach.

“Can’t wait to see what else makes you fall apart for me,” he rumbled. And that, the promise of  _ again _ , the promise of  _ more _ , pushed her over the edge.

She pressed her face into his neck, voice pitching loud and high as her hips twitched, nails raking red lines across his back. Ecstasy popped like fireworks throughout her body, her mind whiting out. She kept moving on automatic, felt Kabal go rigid against her with a few more powerful thrusts and the heat of his release inside her.

“Fuck, are you—?”

“On the pill,” she panted. “Don’t worry.”

His whole bad sagged, drifting onto his back again and guiding her down with him. Nix shuddered as she wiggled off his softening dick, then settled on his chest. They stayed like that for several moments, cooling off and catching their breaths. Finally she tilted her head back to blink up at him.

“Shower?” she asked.

His grin was smoldering. “Long shower.”

***

Nix was stretched out on the bed in her underwear, still trying to cool off from a very steamy, very long shower. Kabal was icing his shoulder at the head of the bed because he was an idiot who had picked her up and stressed it again. Knowing that she was a little too blissed out and spacy for studying, she was scrolling her phone while they waited for the food they’d ordered.

All things considered, things weren’t awkward or weird between her and Kabal. A little more amorous, maybe, but about the same as it had been before they’d spent two hours having sex. He was still a reckless, devastatingly handsome goof and she still snarked the hell out of him at every opportunity. The only difference now was that he’d seen her naked.

Nix snapped out of her thoughts when her phone screen flashed with an incoming call. The afterglow disappeared like a snuffed candle.

“What is that face?” Kabal laughed, noticing.

She stuck her tongue out. “It’s  _ my _ face. Rude.”

“That’s definitely not your face,” he scoffed. “What’s wrong?”

Her grimace deepened. “My mom is calling.”

He made a noise of understanding and leaned back against the pillows. “I’ll stay quiet, then.”

Patting his calf in gratitude, she slid the icon and pressed the phone to her ear.

“Phoenix?” her mother’s voice came through. “Are you there?”

Nix snorted softly. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“ _ Yes _ , Phoenix. Not ‘ _ yeah,’  _ you’re not a hoodlum degenerate.”

“No one says that anymore, mom,” she drawled. “Also, this isn’t a job interview. I don’t need to say ‘yes’.”

“Don’t get snappy with me, young lady. You’re in a heap of trouble as it is.”

Nix rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, wondering at what age parents like hers stopped treating her like she was still in high school. Maybe not ever, and wasn’t that a horrifying thought. Did they do it to Nathan? She assumed they did, but they needed to trade notes soon because she couldn’t be the only one suffering.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“Now don’t think for a second that I don’t know you ran off without warning anybody,” her mother continued, “and it had better not have been with that… delinquent from that club. I don’t even know why you were wasting your time in a place like that when women only go to places like that to—”

“Mom,” she blurted, interrupting the judgemental ramble. “Mom, I’ve taken one too many women and gender studies courses to have this conversation. I went there to have a good time and whoever I danced with doesn’t really matter.”

Kabal made a wounded face and clutched at his chest. She rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth lifting as she gave his thigh a whack. On the other side of the phone, her mom made a disdainful noise.

“It  _ does _ matter. If you make a fool of yourself and embarrass your father and me…”

Nix took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her teeth clenched together. She never bothered to argue with her father. It was like reasoning with a brick wall who also had control of the family finances. Her mother, though...

“Wow, thanks,” Nix replied flatly, “not like I graduated valedictorian and go to med school for you guys or anything.”

“You want to help people,” Mrs. Merce dismissed. “Don’t act like we forced you into anything.”

“Well, I didn’t have much of a choice,” she shot back, bristling. The rising anger was making her restless. She pushed off the bed and started pacing. “My choice was between housewife and college— and I only had three options to major in.”

This wasn’t how she wanted or expected this conversation to go, but she couldn’t stop herself for some reason. Maybe it was everything finally catching up with her. The stress and the possibility of dying and the knowledge that there was so much she hadn’t said to her parents and honestly kind of resented them for.

“You act like we tortured you. Do you know how many people wish they had the opportunities you had? You got the best schooling, internships, everything!”

And she was right and Nix had always felt guilty about that, but also—

“You threatened to disown me and Nathan every semester,” she snapped. “You grounded me for getting a B on a pop-quiz once.”

Kabal shifted on the bed and she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. It was embarrassing. It wasn’t the right time or place. It was a conversation better had in person, when they couldn’t accuse her of being the coward she felt like.

“Look, I— is there a reason you called, or did you just want to criticize me?”

“Well, we  _ were  _ going to talk about the way you’re treating the man who was prepared to marry you,” her mother answered, and that was like a kick to the gut. Matthew had been planning to do  _ what? _ “But it sounds like you’re just want to be combative.”

“Criticize it is. Bye, mom.”

She ended the call, her heart thrumming with a mix of anger and anxiety. She stared at her phone’s blank screen, the usual panic of pushing back at her parents setting in. With all the strikes already against her, there was sure to be retaliation this time.

“If you want to throw it against the wall I’ll buy you a new one.”

She blinked and glanced over at Kabal, who had moved to the edge of the bed and looked blessedly not freaked out that she’d just had family drama in front of him.

“I don’t want to lose anything, or I would take you up on it,” she admitted, shaking her head.

He arched his eyebrows. “Wanna smash mine? I don’t need it for anything.”

That finally coaxed a smile from her as she plopped down next to him, tossing her cell behind her on the bed. He leaned his shoulder into hers, tilted his forehead against her temple and kissed her cheek.

“You alright?” he asked.

“My dad’s gonna kill me,” she sighed, rubbing at her watering eyes.

“Nah, I already promised that no one was gonna do that,” he reminded her, “and what else could he really do to you?”

She sighed. “Cut me off.”

He shrugged. “Worst comes to worst, I’ll pay for what you can’t. School, supplies, a place to stay. Whatever you need.”

She jerked back a little, because she could feel that he was sincere about that. He’d really pay for her to finish grad school without any strings attached. It… it was insane. And really fucking touching. And probably not altogether healthy, but like… he was a mercenary, so that was kind of relative.

“That’s… that’s expensive, Kabal.”

“I got the money for it.” He shrugged. “What else am I gonna do with it? Helping you become a doctor seems like a good cause.”

She laughed a little and shook her head again, but tilted her head to kiss him anyway. It wasn’t an answer, but that was because she didn’t have one yet. She trusted Kabal and if it meant getting away from her parents, well…

“I’m so done with their bullshit,” she sighed. “I’m too fucking old for this.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you’re ancient, sweetheart.”

Before she could whack him for agreeing too readily, there was a knock at the door and Kabal literally bolted away to answer it, crowing about lunch the whole way. Nix bit her lip, but there was a smile tugging at her mouth anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upcoming: Nix meets Kano and is Not Impressed.


	9. We Got Caught in the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix and Kano finally meet. She is not impressed. Kabal is whipped... but like, in a good way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long! I got distracted writing Blind Vengeance, but I was finally in the mood to write fluff (and a couple that's not absolutely fucking impossible sometimes)

Kabal wasn’t experienced with addiction. He could drink most people under the table, but he never craved alcohol. Smoking of any kind was out of the question; he needed his lungs in tiptop shape for running. Working for the Black Dragon, he’d seen enough junkies to deter him from the hard stuff for life. The closest he’d ever gotten was an obsession with McDonald’s fries in high school.

This, though… he wondered if this was how it felt. The cravings. The relief of giving in. Taking just a little to stave off the edge. Telling himself “just one more” even though he knew in the back of his mind that it was a total lie.

At the risk of sounding like a shitty vampire saga, Nix was kind of addicting. He couldn’t stop touching her, kissing her, holding her. Not now that he was allowed to. It was distracting and constant. He expected her to get sick of it right away, but in the few hours since they’d made a mess of the gym mats, she just continued to soak up the attention.

It didn’t help that after her conversation with her mom, she snuck into one of his sweatshirts (oversized on her) while they ate lunch. And when they were finished, she curled up on his lap in the armchair to watch a movie, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t focus for shit. Not when she was  _ right there _ , so warm and so soft and  _ in his sweatshirt. _

It was an older one too, the Sonic logo faded and the hem brushing mid-thigh until it rode up to remind him she only had her underwear on beneath. The sleeves extended past her fingertips and she made no effort to push them back until she laced their fingers together on her stomach. It was sappy— if Kano or Erron saw him he’d never hear the end of it— and he absolutely loved it.

“Wait, no,” she chirped suddenly, “that’s not… that’s not how that works! He shouldn’t be able to move with an injury like that!”

Kabal couldn’t help but chuckle, amused and stupidly endeared.

“Is this a thing you do?” he wondered. “You criticize the science in movies?”

She flinched a little, expression faltering. Kabal tried not to narrow his eyes, didn’t want her to think it was directed at her. That reaction made him want to do bloody things to the people she was supposed to be close to.

“Sorry,” she offered. “I just… yeah, I guess I do...”

He shook his head, snaked his arms tighter around her abdomen to snuggle closer. “Don’t be sorry. I think it’s funny.”

She tilted her head back, blinking at him with lips slightly parted and, well… Kabal was a weak man to such a siren call. The noise she made as his tongue swept over her bottom lip was sweet, pleasantly surprised. He drank it in, telling himself he’d be able to resist kissing her next time— but then why the hell would he want to?

When he pulled away, he smirked at her dazed expression.

“So why shouldn’t he be able to move with that injury?” he prompted.

As it turned out, most gory slasher-flicks didn’t scare Nix because the medical stuff was never right.

“Besides, the bacterial infections they should get are far scarier than some dude in a mask,” she scoffed.

She got hilariously, beautifully intense about it at the climactic final showdown between the remaining main character and the serial killer. Kabal tried (and failed) to contain his laughter as she gestured wildly.

“ _ What?!  _ How is he still alive?! _ ” _ she complained. “He’s lucky he remembers how to  _ breathe _ ! This is so contrived.”

When the movie was over, he managed to keep his hands to himself so she could focus on schoolwork and an online quiz, but it was harder than it probably should have been. Kabal was determined to prove to himself that wasn’t going to act like a horny teenager.

And then they started cooking dinner and he had a vivid image of fucking her on the counter and gave up on pretending. Instead of ruining their meal, though, he settled for pressing her against the cabinets and kissing her until the oven timer startled them apart.

“Just tell me when I start getting clingy,” he told her.

She snorted. “I think our concepts of clingy are different, hot shot.”

In fact, she seemed happy to reciprocate— as became clear when she saw him changing into his “work clothes” and literally jumped on him. He caught her automatically, easily, eyes wide with surprise until her soft mouth slanted over his.

“That jacket is stupid hot,” she mumbled when broke the kiss, sounding disgruntled.

He laughed, squeezing her ass where he supported her. God, she had a great ass. And the little wiggle that he earned was pretty fucking great too.

“It would look better on you,” he said. Just the jacket. Nothing else. Fuck, that would be so hot.

She arched her eyebrows and bit her lip in an attempt to hide her smile, and Kabal remembered with a jolt that she was a fucking  _ psychic _ . He didn’t know exactly how it worked, but he was sure she was getting a clear image.

“I’m gonna steal it, you know,” she warned. “First chance I get, it’s mine— at least for as long as it smells like you.”

He chuckled as he set her on her feet again. “Well, you’ve already got a head start,” he observed, tugging on the front of her stolen sweatshirt.

“Oh, this is just a warm up,” she promised, grinning.

Shaking his head a little, he continued to dress. “You going to get changed or are you going to stare all night?”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Maybe I’ll do both. What are you going to do, stop me?”

His mouth dropped open, a half-amused, half-helpless sound slipping out while she tugged a tight pair of jeans over the curve of her ass. What did it say about him that he just wanted her to ride him through the mattress when she said things like that? Probably nothing he should analyze right before work.

When he clued in again, she was finished tugging on her shoes, looking smug.

“Are you going to stare all night?” she mocked, dropping her voice to imitate him.

“You little—”

She yelped and darted away, but he faster. Her bright giggles filled the room as he threw them both back on the bed, Nix safe in the cage of his arms. His fingers found her ribs, pressed until she wriggled and laughed harder, begging him to stop through a wide smile.

“You done being a smartass?” he asked, pausing.

She huffed. “Obviously not.”

When he started tickling her again, she shrieked.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean it!” she gasped. “I take it back!”

He finally took mercy on her, sitting them up as she caught her breath and shot him a pouty look. With a charming grin, he kissed her forehead and nudged her hip.

“Let’s go before Kano starts whining that we’re late.”

She snorted but stood anyway. “What, do you have to clock in? He sounds like a tool.”

“That’s a nice word for him.”

On the way to the car, he snuck her an appraising look. There was no sign of the anxiety she’d had earlier, though her hands were hidden in the pocket of the hoodie. As arrogant as Kabal could be, he was sure it didn’t have to do with the sex earlier. At least not entirely.

“You don’t seem too nervous anymore,” he offered as she buckled into the passenger side.

“Ah, well, see here’s the thing,” she explained, “I was thinking about it— and if I can deliver an honor’s thesis hungover to Doctor Thermeyer, I can handle your shitty boss.”

Huh. “Huh.”

She leaned back in her seat. “As long as I think about it that way, I can keep calm.”

“I’m guessing Doctor Thermeyer is tough?”

“He gets death threats literally every semester.”

Yeah, if she could deal with that guy, she could probably deal with Kano.

***

Nix hesitated as Kabal pulled up to the warehouse. According to him it was still early, so there were only Black Dragon members lingering around, but there were still so many people. Half of them weren’t sober (or maybe they had never been) and the other half just gave her bad vibes even from the makeshift parking lot. Between them and the venue itself, her instincts  _ screamed _ danger.

That was probably the point.

“Just stay by my side,” Kabal told her as they approached. “Everything is going to be fine.”

She eyed the building. “Right…”

“Nix, baby.” She wrenched her gaze to him, felt a wave of comfort and reassurance as he brushed her hair back from her face, fingertips grazing her cheek. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you, alright? So don’t let ‘em scare you.”

Swallowing, she nodded and followed him through a side door towards the back of the warehouse. A man met them on the other side, and the sight of him was enough to distract her. 

He was dressed like an honest to god cowboy. Hat and all. Nix had never met a cowboy before; she didn’t even know what to say to one. The only unusual piece of his ensemble was the half-mask that covered the lower half of his face.

“Why am I not surprised?” he drawled, taking in first her face, then the sweatshirt she’d pilfered. Her cheeks felt warm.

“Fuck off, Erron,” Kabal scoffed. “Kano in his office?”

The shift in him was almost dizzying. The man she was getting to know was still in there, but there was a protective, hardened layer around him. A determined, wary mindset that was sharper than she was used to, but it was understandable. He was at work and his work was bloody and dangerous. He couldn’t hold her hand like he did at home— ah, in  _ private. _ Literally or figuratively.

“Sittin’ pretty for you and the little lady,” Erron replied.

Nix felt her mouth drop open a little. “How did that manage to not sound sexist?” she wondered.

He arched an eyebrow at her. “Pure talent.” His voice was flat, but she sensed a spark of amusement.

Kabal snorted softly, pressed a hand to the small of her back to begin ushering her along. “Save the meet-cute for later,” he grumbled, though it was only directed at Erron.

They ascended a set of metal stairs, Nix feeling somehow calmer for the weird interaction. It helped remind her that these were all just people. Just a bunch of (mostly) dudes. Questionable, homicidal ones, sure. But that was pretty much any group of frat boys. These ones just had guns. Wait…

Kabal didn’t even bother knocking before shoving the door at the upper level open. A man glanced up as they barged in, and Nix knew immediately and without question that she was facing Kano. The frat boy analogy was going strong— if this particular one had been the lovechild of every stereotypical frat boy put together and a cybernetic gorilla.

All he needed was a snapback— though the prosthetic eye might have been a decent substitute. If he hadn’t immediately creeped her out, she might have asked him about it.

Thinking that way made it easy to narrow her eyes as he rounded the desk with a sleazy smile and an extended hand.

“You must be the little slag that’s got Kabal ass over end,” he said. She hadn’t been expecting the Australian accent, but hey, there was a cowboy downstairs. Why not? “Pleasure’s mine.”

“I know what ‘slag’ means, and I know you didn’t wash your hands after wanking off,” she stated, keeping her hands in her pockets. “My name is Phoenix.”

Kabal snorted and crossed his arms, but she could sense the mental thumbs-up he sent. Kano, in the meantime, was taken aback but — well, not  _ impressed _ , but the blunt introduction had worked in her favor.

“Oh, I know your name sweetheart,” he leered, leaning closer. He smelled like alcohol and BO but Nix forced herself to hold her ground. “It’s mine you’ll want to know for—”

“Business, Kano,” Kabal interrupted before she could. “We’re here on business. Remember?”

Kano took a minute step back, a dangerous gleam in his eye, and Nix tilted her chin defiantly. She was  _ not _ going to be a pushover. Not this time.

“Who says you can’t mix business and pleasure?” he chuckled.

“I wouldn’t call what you’re thinking ‘pleasure’,” she replied, arching an eyebrow. “And I assume that’s not the demonstration you wanted me to give, either.”

He narrowed his organic eye at her in return. “Don’t get too cheeky. You’re still on thin fucking ice.”

And that was an honest warning that she decided to heed. Better not to push her luck too much. With a careless shrug, she turned to Kabal to take the lead.

He caught her eye, gave a tiny nod. “The sooner we come to an agreement, the sooner you can start making money,” he said, “so what did you have in mind?”

Kano wasn’t convinced yet of her powers. Not even a little bit. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he wasn’t the cleanest person, and his expression had been clear about his thoughts earlier. For all the weird shit he’d seen, he wasn’t gullible. She’d really have to prove it before he called off the contract.

“Let’s get this over with, then.”

He brushed past her and Kabal for the door. Nix followed and Kabal brought up the rear, his presence behind her comforting. They took a left at the bottom of the stairs, heading deeper into the warehouse. There was a bar against one wall and a warped fence plotting out a square of dirty, stained floor in front of it.

“That’s where your knight in shining armor fought for your honor last night,” Kano cackled, mocking and derisive.

Nix made a noncommittal noise as images from the fight filtered into her mind from both men. It made her feel a little sick, seeing the damage done to Kabal firsthand, so she turned away from the ring and focused on the ominous black door behind the bar instead. Kano swiped a half-full bottle of tequila off the counter as they passed, then shouldered into the back rooms.

“This is where we do  _ real _ business,” Kano called over his shoulder.

Several rooms away, there was a meaty, wet  _ whack  _ followed by a scream. Nix tensed, but tried to keep her expression even. She had a feeling she was failing and was grateful that neither Kano nor Kabal could see her face.

The halls were winding and uneven, the floor bare concrete and the walls washed gray and flat, probably on purpose. Nix tried to remember the way, but she trusted that Kabal could navigate them out in an emergency. Eventually they stopped in a small room that was empty save for the five men lined up on their knees, and three men (Erron among them) standing guard with guns.

Nix’s steps faltered, startled and uncomfortable. That was… not what she’d been expecting. Kabal’s hand pressed flat between her shoulder blades, gentle and coaxing. She needed to move. She needed to get past this, through this.

Sucking in a slow, deep breath, she forced her unsteady legs further into the room. Kano was watching her with sharp eyes, even as he took a long swing from the tequila. God, she didn’t think it was possible to envy a guy like him, but she did in that moment. What she would have done for a shot to soothe her nerves.

“Alright, doll-face,” he drawled. “One of these bastards has been skimming money from me. Tell me who.”

She frowned, reaching out for a diagnostic peek and frowned.

“What is this?” she demanded, finding the strength to meet Kano’s eyes straight on again. “Is this some sort of joke?”

Kano frowned, brow furrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shook her head, waved him off as she tried to concentrate. “Just wait a second. Let me…”

Nix hadn’t tried to use her abilities much— only in the beginning, when she’d still been figuring it out. Most times, she just tried to keep people out. The Lichtenberg scar on her tingled as she purposefully delved into the minds of everyone in the room, trying to pick out the information she needed.

After a moment, she exhaled and turned to Kano. He jerked back a little, eyes widening. Why? What expression was she making that was so shocking? Whatever. Time to get this over with.

“Well, that guy—” she pointed at the second person in the lineup, “is a guy you planted as a decoy. You’re the one who’s actually been skimming.”

His eyebrows shot into his hairline as he strode forward, looming over her. Kabal took a step to get between them, but the look Kano sent him made him pause. Nix didn’t mind. She knew what was true, knew this was just another test.

“You wanna repeat that?” he growled.

“You’ve been the one taking extra money,” she repeated, slow and deliberate. “Tell me I’m wrong; I know I’m not. Booze, sex workers, a new enhancement to that fancy eyes of yours. That’s what you’ve been using it for.”

There were several long moments of silence. He was waiting for her to falter, to crack under the pressure that maybe she wasn’t as good at reading body language as she thought. But she wasn’t reading body language or using mentalist tricks.

After a moment, he whistled low. “Alright, then,” he drawled, “well—”

“That’s not all,” she added. “That guy standing against the wall is working for some other organization… the Red Dragon, I think? You knew that already, but what you don’t know is that he put explosives in your car.”

Which wouldn’t have been a great loss— either the ugly car or the man— but she figured it was better to avoid doing the song and dance again with whoever Kano’s replacement was. There was a beat of shocked silence. Then there a rush of shouting, the deafening bang of a gun.

Nix squeezed her eyes shut, the blood-and-viscera-spattered wall burned into her retinas. And all she could think was  _ thank god Kano’s body blocked everything else. _ Kabal was already dragging her out of the room, away from the carnage. She gasped for air, entire body quaking and tears stinging at her eyes.

“Nix, babe, you gotta hold it together,” he whispered. “C’mon. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I-I’ve never seen—” she voice sputtered and hitched with restrained sobs.

“I know,” he murmured, ducking to press his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry, but you can’t cry yet. You have to keep focused.”

And she knew he was right. Knew she had to stay strong or all the bravery she’d shown up to that point would be for nothing. She gripped his hand, drawing on the determination and stoicism he felt to ground herself. It helped stay the tears, allowed her to breathe easier and deeper, and slow her racing heart.

After a couple moments, she was able to wipe at her eyes and straighten up on her own. When she met his eyes, he offered a half-smile.

“Atta girl,” he said, squeezing her hand. “You’ve got this.”

“I got this,” she repeated, nodding to herself.

Kano and Erron chose that moment to round the corner, the former smirking.

“Startle you, sweetheart?” he mocked.

She forced herself to roll her eyes. “Not exactly my idea of a good time.” And before he could make any comments about what she thought  _ was  _ a ‘good time’, she continued, “Are you convinced that I’m legit now, or should I guess what number you’re thinking of next?”

He snorted. “Good enough,” he grumbled. “Let’s talk terms, eh?”

The four of them retraced their steps to the bar, where Kabal ordered them both a drink (and Nix was amused to hear Erron order whiskey neat) before they returned to Kano’s “office.” There was a beat up second-hand couch and a few chairs, and despite her reservations, Nix didn’t have the strength to stand through negotiations. She just chose the least suspect looking chair and sank into it while Kabal stood at her side, arms crossed.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Kano began, grinning unpleasantly.

Nix wrinkled her nose. “Don’t  _ show  _ me anything else today, for fuck’s sake.”

Kabal and Erron chuckled as Kano dropped into the seat across from her, manspreading a truly impressive amount. He balanced the tequila bottle on his knee and leaned forward.

“Here’s the deal, girly: you work for the Black Dragon for one year. We call, you come running. Your contract is null in the meantime.”

Kabal snorted. “You’re not even trying,” he scoffed. “Four months.”

“Now who’s not trying? Nine months.”

Nix blinked. Bargaining was not her forte, but she should probably be a little more active than just sitting around listening to the men-folk auction off her time and energy.

“Wait, wait,” she interjected. They paused to stare at her and she straightened her spine. “I have my own conditions. I can’t be at your beck and call— I have classes. So whatever you want me to do, it has to be on an agreed schedule and it has to be near my college.”

Kano blew out a breath. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“And Kabal is my contact for everything,” she continued. “You’re not getting my personal number. Or email. Or Instagram.”

Kabal shrugged. “Seems reasonable to me. Four months, plus her terms, plus she gets free food and drinks.”

Kano spit a few choice words, looking like he’d tasted something foul. “You realize I’m doing you a favor, letting her live? She’s paying back money that would be bloody easier to get just by putting a bullet in her head right now.”

The reminder almost made her heart stop anyway, but Kabal remained firm. “Yeah, and she saved your life tonight instead of letting the contract blow up with you,” he replied.

Kano grumbled something under his breath, even ruder than before. “Eight months and all the other shit.”

“Five months, and you don’t do any ‘business’ in front of her.”

“Whatever, but make it seven.”

“Six and I’ll do the next five jobs for free.”

And before Nix could protest, Kano smirked. “Deal.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Erron clapped his hands together in a way that said it was over.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he sighed and nodded to Nix, “now drink up, buttercup, you earned it.”

And because she could sense Kabal all but pleading with her to just let it go, she chugged her fruity alcoholic beverage like the stressed college student she was.

***

They got exactly one mile from the warehouse before Nix burst into tears. The loud, hiccuping kind that he remembered from the night they met. Kabal pulled into a darkened parking lot where they wouldn’t be bothered. Then he pushed his seat back as far as it would go, unbuckled Nix’s seatbelt, and gathered her in his lap.

She curled up against him, face pressed against his chest as she shook apart in his arms. He hadn’t expected anyone to die that night, even if she hadn’t seen the worst of it. If he’d known— even suspected— he would have been more careful. Would have at least  _ warned _ her.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m so sorry.”

She wasn’t built for his life. He knew that. It was bad enough that she was exposed to the Black Dragon at all, never mind the violence and the death he’d become so desensitized to.

“I-I don’t want to see that ever again,” she choked out. “I can’t— I can’t  _ feel  _ that again.”

Kabal went cold, thinking of her powers, of how it must have been sensing someone die. His arms tightened around her, pressing her closer as if to squeeze the memory from her. Guilt was bitter and thick on his tongue.

“You won’t,” he promised. “If I have anything to say about it, that won’t happen to you again.”

She cried for a while longer and Kabal sat with her through it, speaking quiet words of comfort and smoothing a hand through her hair. Eventually, her sobs quieted. Her breathing evened out. The tears slowed and finally stopped.

“Thank you for everything tonight,” she sniffled. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he replied, never before so uncomfortable hearing it. “This is the least I can do.”

Her bottom lip wobbled. “But you’re working for free and—”

“Hey, as long as I don’t buy any mansions, I’ll survive,” he chuckled. “Trust me, I save up for shit like this because Kano is a bastard.”

She looked a little dubious, but didn’t have the energy to argue or question any further. He leaned his forehead against hers, sending warm, comforting thoughts until she sighed, eyelids fluttering.

“Ready to head home?” he asked.

She hummed in confirmation and slid back into her seat, sinking into the hoodie. As he pulled onto the road again, he set his hand on the center console, palm up. Without hesitation, she interlocked their fingers and dozed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise smut in the next chapter. And maybe even the one after that...


	10. Living in a Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix has a nightmare and Kabal comforts her. Plus, guest appearances new and old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut! Slight dom/sub undertones

The nightmares finally pounced that night. Well, not  _ night _ exactly. When they finally returned to the flat, Nix and Kabal all but collapsed into bed, tangled up without pretense of being platonic anymore. With his chest pressed to her back, their legs tangled together, and his arm curled tight around her waist, the dreams were kept at bay.

Then sometime around dawn, they rolled away from each other.

Nix woke gasping and shaking, her heart thundering in her chest. The afterimages of blood and gore and guns superimposed themselves over the shadows of the room, despite the tendrils of sunlight just beginning to creep in. A warm hand lay on her shoulder, a steady flow of calming thoughts filtering in past the fear that clung to her.

“Nix, baby, it was just a dream. You’re safe.”

She exhaled with relief as her mind attached a name to the familiar voice. He was half leaning over her, expression worried and regretful even in the darkened room.

“Kabal.” She surged forward, arms locking tight around him.

They lay there for several moments as she calmed down, her ear pressed to his bare chest so she could hear his slow, even heartbeat. His hand rubbed soothing paths up and down her back and sides and arms. Calmer, she wriggled into the spooning position they’d begun the night in, her head pillowed on his bicep.

But every time she closed her eyes, the ghosts of images lingered and made it impossible to rest. As tired as she was, she was more afraid of what would ambush her the minute she fell unconscious. She could sense that Kabal was still awake as well, waiting for her to sleep before finding his own. His body was warm and solid against her back, a comforting presence combating the darkness.

“Kabal,” she murmured finally, voice small.

“Hmm?”

“Make me feel safe.” She inhaled shakily. “Please. I trust you and I…”

She wasn’t sure how to finish, how to explain what she needed. Her mind was too chaotic, too laden with fear, and her body was reacting to it. His arm flexed around her waist, a reassurance that he understood. Nix felt her muscles loosen as he shifted behind her.

“I’ve got you,” he replied, voice low in her ear. “Just focus on me. Can you do that?”

Simple enough instructions. She nodded and whispered, “Yeah.”

He pulled her hair over her shoulder to expose her neck and began leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses over the sensitive marks he’d left earlier. She tilted her head to allow him better access, sighing as his hand slipped beneath the edge of her shirt. His hands were slow, deliberate, setting her nerves alight with every inch he explored. Heat was already pooling in her abdomen, slick between her thighs.

He sucked another mark over her throat, drinking in the soft, keening whimper that it earned him. Nix’s hands curled into the sheets as his hand drifted to her breasts, toying with her nipples with teasing sweeps of his thumb,  _ so good and not enough _ …

Her eyes fluttered shut. An unwelcome scarlet smear painted itself across her eyelids and made her tense. No, she didn’t want to think about that. Didn’t want to remember—

He pinched her nipple hard. She yelped, snapping back to the moment as he ground his hard cock against the cleft of her clothed ass.

“Focus on me,” he reminded, tone ever gentle. She shivered.

“Kabal…” She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, what she wanted to ask.

He shushed her, tongue tracing over the shell of her ear. “I’ll take care of you.”

She leaned into him harder, craned her neck for a kiss. His tongue claimed her mouth, filthy and deep and just the right kind of possessive to make her whine with need. Her heart no longer thumped with panic, but with desire at the silent message.

_ I’m here. I’ll protect you. Nothing is going to hurt you because you’re mine. _

His hand slid down at the same gradual pace until he snuck past the waistband of her underwear and found her clit. Her gasp broke their kiss, her head canting back against his shoulder as his fingers stroked in hypnotic little circles. His free arm kept her pressed close, his heat driving out the chill of fear.

It was the slow kind of pleasure, the kind that melted into her bones languid and sweet, even while she twisted into his touch. There were no words, just the soft caresses of sighs and moans exchanged between their mouths, against their skin.

Her climax was just starting to build when his hand retracted, Kabal murmuring reassurances in her ear before she could even begin to protest. Understanding and eager, she helped him get her underwear off, mewled when his hand (so wide and warm and rough, but in the best way) curled around her thigh and pulled her leg back, hooking her knee over his hip and opening her up for him _. _

She didn’t realize she was reaching until his palm pressed to the back of her hand, their fingers interlocking. His grip was grounding as he slid into her, one smooth thrust that filled her up deep and snug and left them both shaking.

“Alright?” he asked.

“So good,” she whispered.

His hand squeezed hers before he began moving, a fluid, slow rhythm that let her feel every exquisite inch stroking her walls. There was no rush, nothing frantic in their movements. Every time his pelvis was flush with her ass, he rocked his hips, grinding the head of his cock against her walls and stealing her breath.

He shifted them, put a little more of his weight on her abdomen. It should have felt constricting, but she felt protected instead, reassured by his weight and the restrained strength of his muscles coiling against hers. The angle of his thrusts shifted with the adjustment, hitting that bundle of nerves inside her perfectly.

Her voice hitched. He pressed her hand to the sheets again, her fingers curling obediently around the fabric so that his hand was free to return to her swollen clit. The ecstasy was a gradual build, a small slice of eternity that swelled and plateaued for what felt like hours, drawn out by Kabal’s hand on her clit and his unrelenting thrusts.

She was barely conscious of his own climax, her pulsing walls milking a mind-numbing orgasm out of him, all the more intense with the feedback loop of her powers. They slowed to a stop, panting despite themselves but so sated. Kabal gently slid out of her but didn’t move any further for a few moments, basking in the afterglow.

“Alright?” he asked finally.

“Better than,” she confirmed, drawing lazy patterns over his arm with her fingertips.

“Will you be okay if I get up for a second?” he asked.

She hummed in confirmation. Kabal placed a kiss on her cheek and sat up, scooted her into the place he’d just occupied where his warmth and scent lingered. She drifted while she waited for him to return, vaguely aware that he was in the bathroom. Her mind was finally quiet and calm, the nightmares washed away by endorphins.

The mattress dipped beneath his weight when he returned, Nix of little help as he cleaned her up with a warm cloth. When he was satisfied, he threw it away and claimed her previous spot. They exchanged one last, sweet kiss before the sleepiness threatened to overtake them.

Rather than spoon again, he rested his front half on hers, head pillowed on her breasts and arms loose around her waist. She sighed contentedly at the pressure, fingers carding through his hair until they drifted off into peaceful slumber.

***

They woke together several hours later, in the exact same position they’d fallen asleep in. It was a slow and lazy return to consciousness, a haze settled over their bed as they nuzzled into each other. Nix had made a point of catching up on assignments the day before, having anticipated that the meeting with Kano would wipe her out. It meant she could spend the day decompressing without stress over schoolwork.

“Want to go out for breakfast?” Kabal asked. He didn’t even bother to move his head from the cushion of her boobs and honestly? Nix couldn’t blame him. 

She hummed, began running her fingers through his hair again. “Somewhere by the water?”

“There’s a place at the harbor,” he murmured, kissing her sternum. “We can take the motorcycle.”

That earned a more interested noise. “That sounds fun. Let’s check out the boardwalk too.”

“Sounds like a date.”

He wasn’t moving. In fact, he hadn’t moved at all except for an initial stretch upon waking up. A smile curled her lips as she booped his nose with her free hand.

“You know we gotta get up to do all that, right, teddy bear?” she asked.

He groaned, more at the prospect of leaving the bed than the impromptu nickname. “That’s so fucking cheesy.”

“So are you,” she replied. She caressed his cheek, a warm tingle travelling up her arm when he kissed her palm.

“Not like that.”

“You call me ‘cupcake’ and ‘princess’.”

He snorted. “Fair.” He sat up with a dramatic groan. “Do you want the bathroom first?”

She hummed in thought, but now that he’d moved she realized— “Yeah, I gotta pee.”

Chuckling, he obliged to roll off her completely so she could freshen up.

About an hour later, he was helping her onto his motorcycle like he had the night they met. Thirty minutes after that, he was holding the door for her at a very classy bistro. Kabal charmed the hostess and got them a window table, set where the sun wouldn’t blast them but they could appreciate the view.

“This place is swanky,” she mused.

“Your family is rich, honey,” he pointed out, “isn’t this pretty standard for you?”

She snorted. “Not as a college student. Anyway, you can tell it’s nice because the hostess only stared at my hickeys a little bit.”

He coughed to cover his laughter as their server walked up. Once they’d placed their orders, Nix finally worked up the courage to ask what had been at the back of her mind since the previous day.

“Can you… tell me about your job?”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “What about it?”

“Well…” How was she supposed to question why he liked killing people? After seeing how the Black Dragon operated the night before, she was having trouble reconciling the man she knew and the mercenary who’d first hunted her down. Whatever they were now, she wouldn’t allow herself to be under any delusions, and she’d rather get the conversation out of the way. “Why do you do it?”

He shrugged. “Good pay. Not many rules.”

“Isn’t dodging the law kind of a hassle, though?” she wondered.

“Not that hard when you’re me,” he replied with a cocky smirk. Even so, she could see the knowing glint in his eye. “But what you really want to know is if I like the bloody parts, I guess.”

She swallowed and nodded, unable to help the furrow in her brow. “I don’t want to argue or anything,” she said quickly, “I just want to understand.”

As fucked up as it was, Nix could admit to herself that there were some not-so-moral things she could accept before it crossed a line. Somewhere along the way, her ethics must have gotten a little crossed. She didn’t touch people so she wouldn’t accidentally invade their privacy, but she could stomach the thought of Kabal killing people.

Apparently, her morals had gotten zapped by lightning too.

“Don’t care for the torture, but that’s just a part of the job,” he said. She didn’t allow herself to flinch; she preferred that he was blunt. “I’ll admit I like killing the rich assholes. Real shitty guys, actually. Those are the contracts I usually choose, but if Kano sets me on a different target…”

He’d follow through. Nix thought of her own contract.

“What about me?” she asked. “Did Kano send you after me, or…?”

“Nah, I picked it up because I thought it was a little off,” he answered, leaning forward, “turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made.”

She felt a flush spread across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She needed to stay on topic. He wasn’t purposefully trying to derail her, he was just that distracting.

“And other people like me?” she pointed out, “Innocent people.”

He sighed and crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Nothing I can do about it. If it wasn’t me, it would be someone else. It’s not personal. I don’t like it, but it’s just business.”

It was a callous way of looking at it, but wasn’t that similar to what they taught her in med school? Don’t get attached. Do what you can. Don’t bring stuff back with you at the end of the day; just do your job and help as best you can. Granted, their jobs were fundamentally different… except she was working for the Black Dragon now too.

Even though it was under some duress, she had to accept that her role would likely result in the deaths of some people. 

“Children?” she asked.

Kabal made a sour face. “I know you’re asking because you have to, but c’mon, Nix. Even I’m not that heartless.”

She put her hands up. “Alright. I just wanted to double check.”

“I know,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I do have  _ some  _ morals, though.”

“I know,” she parroted, smiling a little.

At what point could she be that selfish? He was always so kind to her. He made her feel special, cherished, protected. He’d put his own life on the line to save hers. Did she agree with his particular career choice? Not really. But it wasn’t like she was about to turn him in after everything, so what was so different about a relationship?

What it came down to, she figured, was guilt. Could she handle knowing what he did at night? She could she do it was a reasonably clear conscious?

…Yeah. Yeah, she could.

“I’ll probably have more questions later,” she said, “but that was all, I guess.”

He nodded in understanding, reached across to tap the back of her hand. “We okay?”

She smiled, hooking her pinky around his. “We’re great.”

A moment later, their coffees arrive and Nix all but purred as the caffeine addiction reared its head. They sipped at their drinks in companionable silence for a little while, staring out at the sea. The glossy hulls of sailboats and yachts rocked and swayed in their moorings, flags and sails fluttering in a gentle breeze.

“Would you wanna go out sailing?” Kabal asked suddenly.

“Hmm? Do you have a boat?”

He chuckled. “No, but I could rent one for a few hours. There’s an island a few miles out that people go to.”

“Please, can we?!” She asked, excited by the prospect. “We could take food and watch the sunset.”

He chuckled and nodded. “Sure, princess. Whatever you want.”

Her smile was probably too wide, but Kabal just grinned back. As their conversation fell into another comfortable lull, a bit of intuition flickered through her mind. It was all the warning she had before an unfortunately familiar presence was looming over their table.

“What the fuck is this?” Mattew snarled.

Kabal’s mind went still and dangerous in an instant. Nix froze, eyes wide. Last time they’d run into each other, Kabal had cold-clocked Matthew and left him unconscious on the street. And she knew better than anyone that Mattew held a wicked grudge.

“What does it look like?” Kabal shot back, “We’re getting breakfast.”

Mattew ignored him, eyes locked on her. She knew what he saw— the bright hickeys she’d discovered that morning and made no attempt to hide. Honestly, she was proud of them, and she liked the way Kabal’s eyes darkened whenever he looked at her neck. She’d always hid the ones Matthew had snuck without her permission.

“You’re such a slut now you’ll fuck anything with a pulse?” he sneered.

Nix was pretty fucking sick of Matthew and the fact that he clung to her life like a demanding little barnacle. She didn’t have time to entertain his bullshit anymore. She had school and a job. She’d faced mercenaries, for fuck’s sake! It was almost hard to imagine that she’d ever been scared of him in the first place.

So, eyes narrowed, she tilted her head back and met his eyes straight on. There was an ugly bruise on his face that filled her with no small amount of satisfaction.

“Well, I fucked  _ you  _ once, didn’t I?” she replied, voice cold. “I think my standards have improved, honestly.”

The look he gave her was mean. He opened his mouth to say something— probably something crass— but Kabal cut him off.

“The lady doesn’t want you here,” he drawled, “so fuck off before I throw you out.”

“You lay a fucking hand on me and I’ll own you  _ and _ her,” Matthew shot back. “You’re lucky I haven’t already pressed charges.”

“You should be thanking him,” Nix interjected. “I think you look better this way.”

Kabal shot her wicked grin, but Matthew was not amused. He leaned over her, trying to cow her with size alone. That wasn’t about to happen. Kabal was a little wider than him and his muscle was actually useful, not just for show.

“I’m going to make you regret this,” he swore. “Your dad is going to tear you a new one.”

She snorted and leaned back in her seat, unimpressed. “You’re going to tattle to my father because you couldn’t get your way? Fucking loser.”

Which was about the extent of Matthew’s patience. As soon as he reached for her, though, Kabal’s hand shot out and gripped his wrist in a bone-crushing grip. Nix’s heart thumped hard in her chest, startled despite herself.

“She didn’t say you could touch her,” Kabal growled, voice low and dangerous. “You want to get physical, I’ll be happy to return the favor.”

Nix bit her lip. People at the nearby tables were staring at them, dead silent. On the plus side, the general consensus of their thoughts seemed to be that Matthew was the one in the wrong. Perfect.

“You’re causing a scene, Matthew,” she stated.

Kabal smirked. “Guess money doesn’t buy you class after all.”

Matthew’s other arm reeled back to punch him. Nix snatched up her coffee mug and splashed the remaining contents in his face. The shock of that was just enough time for the waiter to hurry up to them. Kabal released Matthew’s wrist, scowling.

“What seems to be the problem, sir?” the waiter asked without directing it at either man. He seemed to be on the verge of sweating.

Nix placed a hand on Kabal’s, a silent signal to let her handle the situation.

“He stormed up to our table and started insulting us,” she explained. Her voice was a delicate balance of displeased, baffled, and embarrassed, with a dash of pleading.

“Do you… know each other?” the waiter asked.

Nix made an uncomfortable face— not at all difficult to conjure. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.” She gestured helplessly at Kabal. “We just wanted a quiet breakfast.”

Matthew rolled his eyes as he wiped at his face. “Give me a fucking break, you—”

“Fifi, is that you?” a new voice asked.

She blinked, head snapping towards the familiar voice. It was a man in a business-casual suit, striding towards their table. His hair was salt and pepper, combed back and neat. It had been years but she recognized him immediately, even with the trimmed goatee and more laughter lines.

“Uncle Tony?!” she gasped.

“I thought it was you!” he chuckled. “You’ve grown so much!”

She scrambled out of her seat and threw herself into him as he held his arms out for a hug. Kabal remained silent, though she could sense his confusion. Matthew went still, recognizing the name from dating her for so long. They could wait. This was more important.

She pulled away and beamed.

“I’ve missed you,” she said, feeling her eyes get a little watery. “It’s been years.”

He grimaced. “I know, kiddo,” he replied. “After Richard cut off contact… and I was out of the country when you got struck by lightning. Did you get what I sent you?”

She nodded. Aside from Nate, his was the one face she’d wanted to see when she’d woken up at the hospital. He’d had a card and flowers and about a dozen other thoughtful gifts sent to her in his stead, with apologies that he couldn’t be there in person. They hadn’t been in contact since then, though, because her father had forbidden contact.

“Ah, Mister Merce, we didn’t know that you’d be visiting today…” the waiter interrupted.

Matthew was getting that pale like he only did when he’d really fucked up. It was rare, since his father basically let him get away with murder, but Nix had seen it a few times when they’d been dating. Something vindictive in her snickered at the sight.

“What’s going on here?” Uncle Tony demanded with a frown, remembering what had drawn his attention in the first place. “Who the hell are you?” This pointed at Matthew.

“Ex-boyfriend,” Nix supplied quickly. “He’s been bothering me ever since we broke up.”

Uncle Tony stiffened, eyes flashing. He took a step forward. Her heart swelled.

“Young man,” he began. His voice was hard, the tone of someone older and wiser calling out bullshit. “Do you think it is acceptable to harass women?”

Matthew snapped out of his horrified silence and began attempting to schmooze. “Sir, she’s my girlfriend, and—”

“Pardon me, are you calling my niece a  _ liar _ ?” Uncle Tony asked. “Because I distinctly heard her indicate that the relationship is over, which means that it is, whether you choose to accept that or not.”

“It’s not like that, she’s just—”

“And for you to approach her in such a manner and then try to put your  _ hands _ on her...” He shook his head, expression severe. “Young man, I don’t know who raised you, but they did a pisspoor job of it. If you think I will stand for such behavior, you are sorely mistaken.”

Nix felt like cheering and crying at the same time. She was unaware that she was inching closer to Kabal until her hand curled in the shoulder of his shirt. His presence alone made her feel a little steadier with all the emotions swirling in her head. He glanced up at her, waggled his eyebrows as if to say “helluva show” and made her crack a grin.

“You can’t seriously allow her to entertain that mongrel,” Matthew finally managed to interject. Nix’s head shot up, eyes narrowed as Kabal tensed with banked anger. It was one thing to be an ass to her, but to call him names…

“You’d do well to show some respect in my establishment,” Uncle Tony answered. Matthew’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click. “My niece is a grown, independent woman and the young man accompanying her is worthy if she says he is.”

And, as if the whole conversation couldn’t get any better, he waved his hand.

“Now get out. You’ve disturbed my restaurant enough.”

Matthew gaped like a fish for several moments in stunned silence. Nix stared. She didn’t think he’d ever been asked to leave a place before. Uncle Tony didn’t bother to repeat himself, just stared him down until the waiter began ushering him away.

Uncle Tony turned back to them and clapped his hands together once.

“Now, Fifi, would you mind if I imposed on you and your companion?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's def gonna be more smut


	11. A Wonderful Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix and Kabal share a little interlude after the encounter in the restaurant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so fucking late and I'm sorry. I had a decent upload schedule of one thing a week, but then I had three trips in a low and this last one was a week and a half long with no service. Hopefully I'm back on the horse, as the cowboy would say.

Kabal was aggravated that their morning had been interrupted, at first. Nix needed the downtime, a chance to relax without stress or pressure or harassment from the shitty people that infested her life.

Uncle Tony, however, was a helluva curveball.

Seeing how Nix lit up at the sight of him, eyes glistening with tears (the good kind) Kabal couldn’t find it in himself to stay irritated. Especially after he kicked her ex out. Saved Kabal the troubling of breaking a table with the asshole’s back.

He remembered reading briefly about Anthony Merce in Nix’s file— estranged from the main family unit after an argument with Richard Merce, his older brother. No wife or kids, so the twins had acted as Tony’s surrogates until then. In the years since, he’d been travelling and building his fortunes through five-star hotels and restaurants.

“I can’t believe how you’ve grown!” he said as he pulled a chair up to their table. “How in the hell did you get Richard to let you dye your hair?”

She snickered. “Happened naturally after the lightning. He’s been on my ass to dye it something ‘reasonable’ all year.”

Tony rolled his eyes and shook his head, then turned to Kabal. “Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner— the name’s Anthony Merce, but Tony is fine.”

Kabal took his hand and shook once. “Kabal.”

“What an unusual name. I see why Fifi likes it.”

Nix flushed a bright shade of pink and Kabal grinned at her, arching his eyebrows. Tony chuckled and patted the back of her hand.

“I won’t intrude on you two for long, I just wanted to check on my favorite niece.”

She snorted. “I’m your only niece.”

“That’s neither here nor there nor anywhere,” Tony replied with a wave of his hand. Nix giggled and every second he was around, Kabal liked him more. “What did you end up going to school for?”

“I’m in med school,” she explained, “Cardiology.”

He nodded sagely. “I figured that’s where you’d end up, given your options.”

Kabal remembered her saying something to her mother when they’d been arguing the previous day. She’d said she only had three options to major it. One had obviously been med school, the second was likely business. What was the third? Politics? Law? He shuddered to think of her being trapped in either career path.

Nix shrugged, though her smile wasn’t as wide. “At least I’m helping people.”

Tony smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “And I’m so proud of you for that, pumpkin. I suppose that means Nate’s following in Richard’s footsteps.”

She grimaced. “He’s in business, at least. Hopefully he doesn’t take after our father too much.”

“Here’s to hoping, kiddo,” he sighed. 

Clearly Nix was the favorite of the two twins, probably because she took after their father the least. Kabal couldn’t exactly blame him for it, really. He hadn’t even met Nate and there was no doubt who he preferred.

Tony clapped his hands together again and stood with a flourish. “I’ll let you kids get back to your meal, but let’s have a proper dinner together sometime soon, yes? Perhaps tomorrow?”

Nix’s face brightened. “Yes! Give me your number so we can actually stay in contact now.”

Tony added himself to her phone, then departed with a handshake for Kabal and one last kiss on Nix’s forehead. Five minutes later, their food came (on the house) and with complimentary mimosas on the side.

***

“Cupcake, princess, sweetheart… no.”

“But babe…”

“No, don’t look at me like that. You  _ just  _ bought one.”

“He needs a brother.”

And he didn’t have a response to that, so he just stared.

_ “Babe _ .”

Kabal pinched the bridge of his nose to hide the smile threatening to give him away. “You’ve got a problem, you know that? I feel like I should stage an intervention.”

“The only problem is that I don’t have  _ more _ .”

“You sound like a wine-mom.”

“Rude. You should let me buy it to make up for my hurt feelings.”

He rolled his eyes and took her shoulders, (lightly) shoving her to the front counter and well aware that she was still clutching the bee-shaped pot in her hands. The cashier behind the register watched them with open amusement.

“One cactus for the lady, please,” he announced, reaching for his wallet. “And do you have any addiction brochures, maybe?”

“None of those, sorry,” the cashier— Peggy— giggled, “but she’s welcome to the cactus.”

Nix shot him a triumphant little smirk, sticking her tongue out as Kabal handed over a few bills. Peggy pried the pot from Nix’s grasp and proceeded to tie a little purple ribbon around it.

“Well, at least it’s a cheap habit,” he sighed.

“You know you don’t have to enable me anyway,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but then what would I complain about?”

She laughed, accepted her newly accessorized cactus, and followed him out of the little botany shop. They walked the rest of the boardwalk without adopting any more plants, though he was pretty sure that was only because they didn’t pass any other shops selling succulents or cacti or whatever else satisfied her apparent need to adopt.

After a few hours, they returned to the motorcycle and she clung to him all the way back to the penthouse. As soon as they were inside, she put her cactus in a patch of sunlight right next to its new “brother” and grinned. That lasted all of two second before her phone rang and she paled.

“Which one?” he asked as she peeked at the screen.

A wince. “My dad.”

He arched an eyebrow and held a hand out in offer, more than happy to take it for her. She stared at him for a moment, a mischievous gleam in her eyes while she considered, but finally shook her head. He shrugged, respecting her decision but always willing to give her an out.

“Think it’s about the asshole?”

She grimaced. “Guess we’re about to find out…”

She picked up the call and before she’d even opened her mouth, there was audible shouting. It wasn’t even on speaker. Her nose scrunched up as she held it away from her face.

“You know what?” she whispered. “I’m not dealing with this today.”

And she held her phone out to Kabal.

He didn’t exactly snatch it up, but the amused expression on her face said that he was maybe a bit  _ too _ enthusiastic. Arching his eyebrows at her with a grin, he pressed it to his ear and took a quick assessment of the situation on the other end of the line.

Lots of swearing, yelling, threats. He was not impressed. But  _ ooh _ it sounded like he was on speaker. Perfect.

“Hey.” Sudden dead silence. “Leave her the fuck alone. You guys are assholes.”

And he hung up. Nix’s lips parted in shock, then curled up at the corners, and her eyes shone with delight.

“Holy shit.”

He grinned. “What was that noise you just made? You sound like an asthmatic in a vape factory.”

“Because you just aged me by  _ forty years _ .” Then she burst into a fit of slightly hysterical giggles. “I’ve never heard anyone call my dad an asshole to his face.”

“First time for everything.”

She exhaled hard. “God, I wish I could have seen his expression.”

“I can do it when I meet him if you want. It won’t be exactly the same, but I’m sure it’ll be worth seeing.”

She laughed again, took her phone back and tossed it onto the nearby armchair as she reached up to wrap her arms around her neck. The warm, fond expression on her face made his heart squeeze; Kabal could die a happy man as long as she looked at him like that.

“I’d like to see their faces if they just  _ met _ you,” she mused.

“Didn’t realize you were one of those girls who brought home badboys to piss of her dad.”

Her nose scrunched up as her little smile widened into a grin, a glint in her eyes. “You’re just figuring that out? I thought you were supposed to be quick on the draw.”

“You little—” He scooped her up, smirked when she wrapped her legs around his waist, and then pressed his fingers into her ribs.

“Not again!” she squealed. “Y-you— ah! You can’t keep doing this j-just because…” she dissolved into breathless giggles, wriggling helpless in his arms until he propped her on the back of the armchair.

“Hm? What was that?” he mocked. “You gotta speak up, cupcake.”

She huffed and gave him a solid  _ whack _ in the arm. “You can’t keep tickling me just because you don’t have a good comeback!”

He stared at her for a beat. Her eyes got wide, fresh horror dawning on her face.

“What did you say, babe?” he asked. “I heard ‘keep tickling me’.”

“Kabal, no—  _ ah _ !”

Somehow, he managed to keep her from falling off the armchair  _ and _ kicking him in the dick as he brought her to laughing tears. Finally, she got her small hand around his wrists and he took mercy.

“You’re so mean,” she pouted when she could get enough air.

He arched his eyebrows and lowered his voice. “I could show you just how  _ nice _ I can be…”

She bit her lip, hands dropping to his belt and tugging him closer, wedged between her thighs. His heart stuttered and then began pumping blood south at a pace that left him light-headed.

“Or…” she murmured, peering up at him through thick lashes and mussed hair, “I could just get payback…”

He would have thought she was the one with speed powers with how fast she undid his pants and snuck her hand into his underwear. His knees nearly buckled; he caught himself on his arms, hands planted on either side of his hips, and pressed his face into his shoulder.

“Fuck, babe,” he groaned as his cock filled out in the circle of her fingers.

“Is this okay…?” she asked.

“Hell yes,” he assured. “More than okay.” He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, knowing he had to ask before he lost all his remaining brain cells. “What do you want me to—”

“This. Just this for now,” she answered, running her tongue over her bottom lip. Her voice was a little more hesitant as she tried to continue. “I just…”

He caught the expression on her face, the subtle tension in her shoulders, and figured out what she wanted.

Her life had turned into a hellscape free-for-all, everything moving too fast for her to get her bearings or process properly. Things had been happening  _ to _ her, and while she’d been bearing it like a champ, there wasn’t much else she could do. Most of her choices had been taken away or made for her, sometimes not even offered in the first place. And while there had been times that couldn’t be helped, it didn’t mean she wasn’t feeling out of control.

He couldn’t take back or even fix anything, but he could give her this.

“I’m all yours, princess.”

With her free hand, she guided his mouth down to hers for one of those deep, filthy kisses that made his cock twitch as she stroked him. And fuck it was hard to imagine they’d only started having sex the day before because she was a helluva fast learner. Twisting her wrist on the upstroke, squeezing just a little tighter at the base, thumbing the head as he leaked precum.

Almost like she could read his mind—

Wait…

“You’re cheating, aren’t you?” he panted.

She hummed, stroking a little faster as she pulled away from what would probably an impressive hickey. “Are you really complaining?”

He groaned and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her neck. “Fuck, no.”

If he came a little faster than usual, well… it was always better when it was someone else. Especially if that someone else was an empath who knew  _ exactly _ how to get him off. His arms nearly collapsed as his orgasm rolled through him; and then again when she licked her hand clean without hesitation.

“Princess, what can I do for you?” he murmured when he’d recovered.

She bit her lip, wriggled where she sat as pink bloomed across her cheeks and nose. “Would you… um…” Her eyes darted down to his mouth and stayed there.

He dropped to his knees in a heartbeat, thanking whatever higher power was out there that the back of the armchair was at the perfect height to eat her out. They worked together to peel her shorts and soaked underwear off, and then his face was bracketed by her glorious thighs. He scooted her forward until she was teetering on the very edge and spread her apart with his thumbs.

“D-don’t stare,” she mumbled, squirming.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He licked a broad stripe up to her clit, humming like she was his favorite ice cream, and smirked as her hands flew into his hair, tugged him closer. Wanting easier access, he hitched her knees over his shoulders and didn’t waste any more time teasing. And fuck was it hot. She was so wet that she was practically dripping, sensitive enough that he had to hold her hips still even though he’d just started.

He could spend hours between her legs, fucking her on his tongue over and over while she cried and writhed. The best part was always the noises she made, desperate little high-pitched sounds that drove him fucking crazy. If he could hear that all day, every day, he’d live a life with no regrets. Wanting her loud enough to bother the neighbors, he recalled her reaction from the day before.

When he worked her clit in tight little circles she gasped and whined. When he pressed a little harder and swiped with the flat of his tongue she wriggled and moaned. And when he sealed his lips over that swollen bundle of nerves and sucked gently…

“Fuck, yes,” she cried, “please!”

He slid one of his hands over her hip and thrust two fingers into her, curling them to stroke that sweet spot inside her. Her slick walls squeezed tight, incomprehensible syllables tumbling from her mouth as he worked her over with single-minded intent. Just a little more and—

She screamed as she came, babbling his name and whimpering when he didn’t let up, drawing it out until she was overstimulated and squirming. He pulled back with a satisfied sigh, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before standing to kiss her. When they parted, she leaned her forehead against his while she caught her breath.

“You alright?” he asked.

She hummed. “I’m okay. Let’s get cleaned up?”

“Sure,” he answered, running the fingers of his clean hand through her hair. “I’ll even let you steal my hoodie.”

She snorted softly, lips curling up in a smile. “Like you could stop me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time:
> 
> Nix's first day on the job! She makes a Texan friend.  
> Kabal makes good on some promises  
> Uncle Tony pretends not to know about his niece's obviously active sex life

**Author's Note:**

> If you have requests, questions, or just want to chat, my tumblr is charliemwrites!


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